96 Hours Until Sold
by Writer With Sprite
Summary: Four of our boys in blue are captured after what seems to be an easy island rescue goes awry. Will the boys be able to be rescued from the forces of the Hood, or will they be sold and separated from their family forever? TV-verse, Alan whump.
1. Captured

**Title:** 96 Hours Until Sold

**Rating:** T (for violence, torture, swearing)

**Warnings:** Violence, torture, swearing (like you would expect anything less!)

**Summary:** Four of our boys in blue are captured after what seems to be an easy island rescue goes awry. Will the remaining members of International Rescue be able to save their family before they're sold on the auction block?

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><p>"You will tell me what I want to know," the man said, breathing heavily as he dumped the barely twenty-year-old boy into the room. The blond cried out in pain and tried to pull away from the other, only to be shoved into the wall.<p>

A redhead was shoved back into the room next, followed by two individuals with dark hair. One was awake, one was not. The one who was awake was instantly up, glaring at the man who dropped the oldest one of them on the ground. "You can't arrest us for this," he said as he tried to make his way to the man.

"We have absolute authority on the island," he said. The man's face clearly showed his smirk, which made the second-eldest want to punch him in the face right then and there. "You do not have a passport on your person. That is one of our laws. We thank you for helping us, but since you do not have a residency sticker, or have a passport _on your person_, you are under arrest."

"That's bullshit!" the dark-haired man exclaimed as he glared at the first individual, his jaw dropping as he hoped to firmly express his anger. He winced as he was pushed back against the wall.

"I'm sorry you weren't informed of our laws. Maybe we can work something out," the man said as he opened the door before slamming it shut. The dark-haired boy moved over, trying in vain to reach the door. It had already been locked shut.

Virgil swore softly. "Shit," he moaned as he sank back against the wall. "How did we get ourselves in this situation?"

"We didn't carry our passport on our person," Gordon snorted as he shifted, hoping to avoid stepping on Scott's arm. Both Scott and Alan had been brought in unconscious. "I wonder how long it'll take them to find them?"

"They probably won't even look for our passports," Virgil said. He exhaled slowly. "I want to know what they'll do of the planes. It's unlike us to use only one jet. But the Thunderbird One is pretty large; it could fit all of us and it seemed to be all we needed."

"How big is the island?" Gordon asked as he watched his brother check Scott's breathing and his pulse. Virgil then moved on to checking Alan's pulse. When he declared them to be as fine as he could be, he sank down.

"Not the slightest clue." Virgil closed his eyes as he laid his head back against the wall. "They took my watch," he said with a pouty frown. "Actually, I think they took pretty much everything that wasn't stapled to our body."

"Well, technically," Gordon said, always one to make the mood light, "they didn't take our clothes, and those weren't stapled too our bodies."

Virgil shot Gordon an 'are-you-kidding-me' look. "Yeah, but they grabbed our identifying colors. It makes me wonder, maybe they have a way of contacting Dad."

"Are you thinking ransom?"

"Don't know," Virgil muttered. He shifted uncomfortably again, hoping this wasn't the place where they were going to sleep tonight. "I hope John notices something is wrong soon, though."

"Me, too," Gordon responded with a vigorous nod, "me, too."

* * *

><p>John Tracy rarely got as worried as he was at this exact moment. Right now, he could reach none of his brothers by command. He sighed as he glanced at his watch. Scott had been unreachable in the field for 30 minutes now. That time in itself wasn't unheard of, but John couldn't shake his feeling of worry.<p>

He decided to finally call his father and see if there was any news. "Dad, it's me. Is there anything from the brothers on the island rescue?"

The island rescue had been one of their more abnormal calls. One of the dams had flooded and they'd wanted some help saving some residents' houses. It hadn't really take any of their machines, just some extra manpower and a few technological tools that the island didn't have. Gordon had remarked before departure that the island seemed to be "straight out of the 1800s" as far as its technology went.

"No, John. I was just about to radio you and ask that. I haven't heard from him in over an hour." Even on the vid-phone, Jeff Tracy looked worried. "I'll try and reach Scott. If I can't within the next half-hour, we'll raise the alarm on the island."

"I really hope nothing is wrong," John responded with a worried glint in his eye. He sighed, praying that nothing had happened. "Scott," he muttered under his breath, "please tell me Gordon is just playing with the communications equipment again, like he was doing that one time..."

* * *

><p>Virgil groaned as he awoke, blinking rapidly. He sighed as he saw the dank walls of the prison cell. He had been separated from his brothers. One of the individuals had found out that Virgil had been treating people for their medical needs, as he put it, and didn't want him to do the same thing to help his brothers. Virgil swallowed hard. He'd already told the man that torture was against all the laws set forth by United Nations, but as the man had so patiently said…<p>

_Flashback_

"_Take him," they said, pointing at Virgil. Virgil swallowed hard as he looked at the man, his expressive eyes no doubt showing fear. _

"_Why him?" the first man grumbled, not making a move towards Virgil. Virgil didn't know whether or not to feel grateful that Scott hadn't woken up yet. If Scott was awake, he probably would have pummeled the man into unconsciousness by now. _

"_Because he's a medic. We don't want him to help heal his team members after we've beaten them," the man explained, as if it were obvious. Virgil felt nauseated, but at the same time, felt a wave of relief wash over him. The man didn't know that they were brothers; that was good; one less thing for them to hold over their heads. _

_But there was one issue that Virgil saw a pressing need to address. "Torture," he said, "is against the law by the United Nations – every single continent is held accountable for it." _

_The island's law enforcement officer snickered. "Well," he said, "We are an island, independent from the law. Move him," he added, barking to an individual officer._

"_Vir—"Alan started to say, but stopped himself before he gave his brother's name away. It wasn't common and could possibly be used to track down who his brother was. "Don't take him!" he settled on shouting as the man dragged his brother out of the dingy cell.  
><em>

## end flash ##

Virgil slumped against the wall, thinking about their current predicament. John and their father would know they were missing soon, when they didn't report in. They would hopefully send action to the island. It was a big island, sure, but they had ways of knowing where they were. Virgil wished for his watch or for some personal _something_, but they'd taken all his belongings.

The door creaked open, and Virgil looked up. "Well, well, well," the man said. Virgil surveyed the man. He had a gun in the pocket holster, and was holding another weapon that appeared to be a stun gun. "We're going to send your leader a little note. See, we're a bit… behind on times in technology. We know this, but we haven't had a way to catch up our times. _You_ are going to help us catch up on technology," he said, tracing Virgil's outline with his stun gun, "or you will die."

Virgil gulped at that. He'd rather die than put International Rescue's technology in the hands of glorified criminals, which was what these men were to him. They were certainly not law enforcement officers.

"I want you to communicate to your leader that you are fine, and that nothing bad has happened, and that they should not come to the island," the man said. He smiled a little. For the first time, Virgil noticed his voice was accented, but with what language?

"And if not?"

"Your youngest comrade, whoever he is, gets to suffer for your mistake." The man smiled. It was a sick smile. His eyebrows crinkled, and his red hair made him look like he was about to explode for some reason, which Virgil hoped he wouldn't. His teeth showed when he smiled, and Virgil found himself thinking that the man was obviously a chain smoker because of the way his teeth looked.

Virgil gulped. "You will all suffer here," the man continued, his voice sounding like fingernails grating on a board, "But you can control how much your brothers suffer or don't suffer. So, will you do it?"

Before Virgil could answer, the man pressed the button on his taser, and Virgil screamed as he felt the electric current pass through him.

"There's something else you should know," the man continued, obviously enjoying Virgil's pain. "If we do not find you innocent within 96 hours of your crime, you will be sold on our auction block."

"W-what?" Virgil stuttered. "Slavery is illegal too!" he burst out, "it was the first international l..."

"I told you," the man barked, "we're an island. We make our own laws. Now, tell me if you'll write the letter to tell your leader to back off, or if one of your team mates will pay the price."

"I won't do it," Virgil responded as he jutted out his chin.

"Fine," the man said. He turned towards the door. "Then I'll just find out who the youngest one is, and they'll pay the price."

"No, wait!" Virgil said, calling the man back. Or attempting too. "I'll write it! I'll write it, damn-it!"

But it was too late. The man had already shut the door, and was making his way down the hall.

_Mom, _Virgil prayed, _please, protect Alan... _

He had no idea of the nightmare that was to come.

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><p>AN: This is the introductory chapter; next chapter the action will really start to pick up! Hope you like it, please review, and let me know what you think. There will be plenty of whump here to go around!


	2. Fly Away

Alan, who had awoken since Virgil had been dragged out of the room, was startled when someone banged the door open. He had been leaning on Scott's arm, worried about his brother, who was still unconscious.

Before either Gordon or Alan could react, Alan was roughly grabbed under his arms. "You're coming with us," the first man barked.

"You can't take him!" Gordon protested, worried about his brother. He swallowed hard. Shit, how were they going to get out of this mess without revealing who they were or one of them dying? Because those options looked like that was were headed. Gordon forced himself up, only to be shoved back down by one of the men who hit him on the shoulder with the baton he was carrying.

Before Gordon could do anything else, one of the strangers grabbed Alan under his arms and hauled him into another room. "Your comrade wouldn't write a letter for us," the man said as he stepped on Alan's hand, which Alan had dropped to the floor. Alan gave a short cry. "Maybe you'll be more… cooperative than him. After all, the youngest in the group is always the most cooperative, right?"

Not knowing what to say, Alan settled for glaring instead of talking. The man just smirked as he grabbed Alan's arm, hauling him up to a nearby table. He grabbed Alan under his arm and forced him to sit down in the chair. He slammed the door, leaving Alan alone in the semi-darkness.

Alan swallowed hard as he looked around the room. He didn't know what was going on. He'd woken up briefly. He knew that Virgil, at least, was captured, but he didn't know who else was. He suspected one – or two – he hadn't been sure, - of his other brothers were captured.

He groaned as he looked at his clothes. They had taken away his identifying stripe of color and had left him in only his shorts and a raggedy t-shirt, which was a bit more dirty now than it had been when he'd come in. Alan closed his eyes. What had happened in the time he'd been unconscious? Actually, speaking of that, how long had he been unconscious? Alan really had no idea.

Glancing around the room, the twenty-year-old tried to assess the situation. He was kidnapped. By who, he didn't know; although the man looked like the law enforcement officer who had showed up to greet them on the island. Alan felt his teeth clench. They'd helped the men, and they'd been kidnapped in return. Why?

Only a few minutes had passed before the man came back. He grinned at Alan. "You are going to write," he said with a smile.

"You kidnapped me to force me to write?" Alan hadn't been awake for the initial explanation, and felt like he was totally in the dark with the situation. He should have asked Gordon to fill him in. Hmm. If Gordon was even awake then. That was a good question…

The man – who was obviously attempting to look like a law enforcement officer, from the way he dressed – backhanded Alan across the face. "Do _not_ backtalk here on this island," he said, showing his glaring white teeth to Alan. Alan winced at the smell of alcohol coming from the man's breath. He wasn't drunk, that much was clear; but it was obvious that he'd been drinking. "Anyway," he responded, "you were probably knocked out when we filled in your comrade. Your crime is not having a passport on your person. It's one of the island laws."

Alan's mouth dropped open. "They're in our plane," he responded. He closed his mouth and swallowed hard. This was crap. People who called on International Rescue called on them because they were set apart from any other organization and weren't bound to local laws. Well, okay, that wasn't exactly it, but that was the gist of it.

"We have searched your plane," the man responded calmly. He sat down at the black, dusty and moldy table across from Alan. Alan could feel the bruise forming on his arm from where he'd been… actually, Alan didn't know what had happened there. "There were no passports on there."

Alan knew that the man was lying. He knew that Scott always kept all of their passports with them in whatever plane they were flying. He'd seen Scott stash the passports there himself.

"At any rate," the man said, "as I was trying to explain to your comrade, we need a letter stating that you have been arrested, and what your crime is. You are going to write it."

Alan swallowed hard. He knew that would be as good as signing their death warrants. Wasn't there something where if you signed something… "Me?" he said, his voice an aghast whisper. "I mean…"

"Yes, you." The man smirked. "I'll leave you here for five minutes. Use that time wisely, to make up your mind. One of you will be writing that letter for us, one way or the other. It's up to you to decide how much pain you're going to bring about."

Shit.

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy was worried. He had no way to know that they had separated the four brothers so that they didn't know how his brothers were faring. He had been knocked unconscious by chloroform. Worried about the commander, the people who had drugged him had overdosed the amount, causing him to sleep nearly 24 hours.<p>

"Shit," Scott muttered, not in the least bit worried about his language as he surveyed his new location. He felt for watch, hoping to be able to contact his father, but it had been taken from him. Scott groaned when he noticed it wasn't there.

He closed his eyes again as he realized that his uniform – the pants anyway – had been removed. He could feel the cold air against his legs and knew that meant he was only wearing shorts. Scott felt disgusted. How dare they do that? Swallowing hard, it was all he could do not to allow his anger and fear to boil over to the surface. It wouldn't do him any good at this point. His hands had been bound against his back, probably to keep him from fighting.

_What about his brothers_? Had they been taken, too? Why had he been kidnapped? Scott closed his eyes as the questions flashed through his mind. What he wouldn't give for some answers! He wanted to know that his brothers were okay and out of the line of the fire.

_Mom, _Scott prayed silently, _protect them, because I don't know what the heck is going on_…

It was then when the door creaked open.

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy was absolutely furious. Four of his boys had gone missing. They had heard absolutely nothing from the island. Lady Penelope herself had flown to the island, going on the boys' behalf. (She had not wanted Jeff to go, afraid that Jeff would be recognized, even on the island without technology). She had reported that the police officials had said that the boys had left without problems. There was no evidence of the Tracy One anywhere on the island.<p>

John had returned from Thunderbird Five. Brains himself had gone to relieve him. The Thunderbird itself would be on auto pilot until right now, and would be until the situation was resolved.

"You can do it, Jeff," Lady Penelope said approvingly. She sat in the luxurious red commander's chair, which clashed badly with her pink dress. She was sitting, with one knee placed over the other. If one didn't know the situation, and walked into the room, they might think she was relaxing. John knew better.

"I know," Jeff responded. His hand hovered over the button. "I just hoped for so long that I would never have to use this."

With that, Jeff Tracy pressed the button.

_Code K. International Rescue representatives, report in. Code K. _


	3. Goodbye, One

_A dead end can never be a one way street; you can always turn around and take another road. - __Bo Bennett _

_(Quote found on FanFiction)_

Look! It's a surprise, early update! Don't get used too it, but do enjoy it! Here is the promised Alan whump. Also, I'm sorry for uploading this twice. The first time that I uploaded this, it cut out all of the scene with Virgil and Gordon, and I thought you might like to see that. Also, I think the website took out a few of my punctuation marks. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Virgil Tracy moaned as he awoke. He felt the wooziness and dizziness return as he blinked back to reality. He closed his eyes once more after seeing the room. He had been returned back to the original room; the same walls were there. And Gordon, of course, was there.<p>

So much for them separating him. Virgil frowned – why separate him? Simply because he was the medic? It didn't make any sense.

Opening his eyes once more, he realized that both Scott and Alan had been removed from the room. "Gordon?" he questioned, looking at his brother. He turned around, giving his brother his full attention.

"Hey, Virge." Gordon sighed, his head dropping as he propped himself up against the wall. He looked absolutely exhausted. Actually, he looked more wasted than exhausted, and if the situation hadn't been so serious, Virgil might have called him out on it.

"What happened?" Virgil demanded. He saw the burn marks on his brothers' arm and winced. These men, these men who called themselves law enforcement officers, were not. It was not their business to be in anything related to law.

Not when they had hurt his brother.

"I told the man 'no'," Gordon said. He closed his eyes for a second, whether to try and relive the memory or trying to repeal nausea, Virgil didn't know. "He said that I had to sign a statement saying I was guilty. All I did was say 'no' once, and he did this to me." Gordon lifted up his arm.

"Shit," Virgil muttered. He glanced around the room, which was just as bare as it had been before; perhaps even more so. Scott and Alan had both been taken from the room. "Scott and Alan?"

"I don't know," Gordon responded, blinking as he thought about it. He let out a small exhale.  
>"What happened to your arm?" Virgil demanded. He needed to know so that when he had a chance to treat it properly, he could do just that.<p>

"The guy took his BIC lighter and used it to burn me." Gordon's voice, which was usually full of life, had become flat and dead. He swallowed hard. "He s-said that I couldn't say 'no' on this island. He lifted his BIC lighter, it was red, and he pressed it against my skin. Three times," he added, pointing at the burns.

Virgil swore mentally and glanced at his brother, concerned.

They had to get out of here.

* * *

><p>Alan swallowed hard as the man came back. It had to have been less than five minutes since the man's departure. Eying the security camera that faced him, Alan knew these men were lying about being behind the times in technology. Gordon, who had known the most about the situation, had remarked that the island was "straight out of the 1800s" as far as its technology went. From what little he had seen, he had known that the island had some technology.<p>

So what on earth was going on here?

As for the crime of them not keeping their passports "on their person…" well, Alan was personally disgusted with that. Okay, fine. So they didn't have their passports on their person. They were guilty. But that didn't give these men the right to capture them and torture them.

Did it?

"Are you willing to write the letter?" the man asked. He placed a black pen on the desk, and a piece of blank white lined paper in front of Alan.

_No way in hell,_ Alan thought, but didn't dare say that out loud. He had a feeling the guy wouldn't hesitate to beat him into submission. Law enforcement officers these men might be, but they were taking their privilege – if one would call it that – way, way out of hand. "What am I supposed to write?" he asked icily. If the man had told him, he did not remember. His memories from the time he touched down on the island were a complete blur.

"That you are guilty of the crime of not having your passport on your person, that you plead guilty," the man responded. "Or, you can write that your situation is fine, and that your leader should back off. It's your choice."

Alan closed his eyes, trying to contemplate the way to say this that would be least likely to get him punched in the face. "Look, as far as the crime of 'not having a passport', fine. We're guilty. But our passports are in our plane, and we can go back and get them if you would just let us –"

"No, you can't," the man said reasonably. Alan winced, looking at the smile on his face. Somehow, he just knew that this was going to be bad. "We burned Thunderbird One. Her remains are in the blue, vast ocean; if your passports were there, they aren't anymore."

His anger flared. Alan couldn't help it. They'd destroyed Scott's _plane_? His eldest brother was going to be absolutely furious. Nothing would save these men from the Wrath of Scott now, not when they'd damaged his baby. "You're lying," he said, seeing the look on the man's face. "Look, even if we did commit the crime, you can't hold us here like this. _You_ called us in for help. Well, maybe not you, but-"

"Just tell me if you're going to write the letter or not," the man growled. "I don't have time for this."

Alan, much like Virgil had done earlier, jutted his chin out. His blond hair temporarily flared. He swallowed hard, knowing his answer was going to bring a lot of pain to him. This decided it for him. These men weren't law enforcement officers; they were criminals – who had no hard feelings about holding them hostage. But why? What did they want?

"Fine," the man responded. He grabbed Alan under his arm and flung the teenager to the floor. Only nineteen, Alan was the youngest of the Thunderbirds. His twentieth birthday was in less than two weeks. Closing his eyes as he lay on the cold, gray and dingy concrete floor, Alan wondered if he would be home for his birthday.

_He couldn't think like that_.

"You'll write the letter, right?" the man said with a smile. "Alan?" he added.

That was when Alan lost it. They'd seen the passports; they had to have. Otherwise there was no way that the man would have known his name. The passports that they kept in the Thunderbird One had their real first names, and their real contact information, but had fake last names.

_Those lying son of… _Alan broke off his train of thought. That information wouldn't help him now. "No," he responded. He felt the pain of being thrown to the floor. His left wrist, which had been hurting since he'd awoken, was now throbbing painfully. He knew it wasn't broken, but that thought did not make him feel any better.

The man smirked, probably having expected this response from Alan. He whipped off his belt, and Alan swallowed hard, nausea settling in the pit of his stomach. "Fine, okay. You won't write the letter. We can compromise. Will you sign something saying you're guilty?"

"Hell, no," Alan responded empathetically. Guilty of what – not curtailing to the man's commands? Not worshiping the ground he walked on or kissing his ass—?

His thoughts were interrupted as the man swung the belt at Alan's back. "It's time you learn who is in charge here, _boy_," he said. The silver buckle landed on Alan's back, and he winced, closing his eyes. He had already not felt good and the belt buckle, even though he didn't want to admit it, hurt.

"You will listen to me," the man added. He whipped Alan with the belt a second time, this time harder. Alan cried out in pain. The man snickered and used his steel-toed boot to kick the boy squarely in the stomach. "Up against the wall," he said. Seeing Alan's confused look, he grabbed Alan by his elbow and dragged him closer to the smelly, bricked wall that was the color gray. Alan's heart sunk as he noticed some prior blood stains on the wall. _Crap, that so wasn't good_. "I said, up against the wall. Kneel on your knees, and don't move. What part of that don't you understand?" he barked, bringing the belt down on Alan's side hard again.

And again.

And again.

Alan just closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, put his hands on the dirty, dingy cement floor, and prayed for the beating to stop.

* * *

><p>Scott knew that he must have passed out again, even despite his best attempt not too, because he had awoken to find his arms untied. Alan, his youngest brother, had been thrown into the room. Upon observation, it was clear that he was in a different room than he had been before. This one had a red carpet and had a small bathroom adjourning it.<p>

"What happened?" he said, coming back into reality as he noticed his younger brother was hurt. Well, that answered his question. Not all of his brothers had been able to evade capture.

Alan looked down at the floor miserably. Scott, seeing the trickle of blood on his brothers' arm, moved toward the first-aid kit. He opened the white hinges, taking advantage of the supplies he saw inside. "Man, Alan," he muttered, "you're a mess."

"Thanks, Scott. Nice to know what you think of me," Alan said with a loose chuckle.

"Seriously, what happened?" Scott demanded as he moved towards Alan's arm, dabbing at the blood with the gauze pad. This was way beyond his scope of medical training, and he desperately wished for Virgil.

"What do you know so far?" Alan asked, evading Scott's question. Scott could tell that his younger brother felt hurt, and closed his eyes. Nothing was funny about that, nothing was funny about his brother getting hurt.

"Absolutely nothing. Tell me," Scott said.

"We've been 'arrested,' if you will, by the law enforcement officers on the island. What is our great crime? Not having our passport on our person," Alan snorted, disbelief laced in his voice. It was evident that he thought the accusations were falsified.

"We had them in the stupid plane," Scott muttered, "and we didn't know about the law."

"Oh, they know we had them in the plane. They called me by my name, Scott." Alan closed his eyes, trying to think of how to tell his brother what was going on. "Oh, yeah, Scott…"

"Just tell me, Alan." Scott still needed to know how Alan got hurt, but that could come in a minute. Alan obviously had something else he needed to say first.

"They burned down Thunderbird One," Alan responded, his face expressionless, his body anxious as he awaited Scott's response.

* * *

><p>So, here's your challenge: Maslow has a hierarchy of needs. We've all heard of them. They are: Safety, love, food, shelter, comfort, and others. Which one of these needs will Alan be deprived of in the next chapter? Review with your best guess.<p>

Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading. Remember to hit the lovely button and offer feedback!


	4. Guilty As Charged

A/N: Look, another early update! I wanted to say thank you to all for reviewing, so gave this as an early present. :-) There will probably be more whump in the next chapter, as well as more deprivation of needs - this was more of a filler chapter. Thanks for all of your kind reviews!

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><p>Alan Tracy felt sick to his stomach. They had moved both him and Scott back into the same room that Virgil and Gordon was in. Scott's eyes had darkened when Alan had told him about the Thunderbird One and what the man had said, but much to his credit, he'd said nothing to Alan, possibly because he was worried that Alan would 'take it the wrong way.'<p>

When the door clanked shut, Scott turned to Gordon. His face itself was expressionless, but Alan could see the hatred that burned in his eyes. "What happened to your arm?" he asked, gently walking over to his younger brother. He took Gordon's arm and moved it ever-so- soothingly, looking at the wound in question.

"The guy took a BIC lighter and burned it." Gordon's voice was angry. "He said I couldn't say n-no on the island. I wouldn't sign the guilty papers."

"Why are they so determined to have us sign those papers?" Virgil questioned. "Alan, Scott, did they ask you to sign them?"

"Yes," Alan responded. He glanced at Scott, who quickly shook his head.

"No. They've had me unconscious for most of the time. I didn't even know anything until Alan was thrown in the same room with me," he added. "By the way," Scott said, pointedly looking at Alan's injuries, "you still didn't tell me where I got those."

Alan closed his eyes, knowing what he was about to say would make Scott hate their captors even more. Not that he minded that. Gordon, Virgil, and Scott turned to look at him. "Alan?" Scott pressed, concerned.

"I w-wouldn't sign the guilty thing," Alan said, looking to the ground. "They s-said I could e-e – I could write a letter saying everything was fine, or I could sign something saying I was guilty, and since I did neither…" Alan closed his eyes, trying desperately to prevent a flash-back.

"One of them grabbed me, shoved me onto the cement floor. Then he asked me if I'd write the letter. I told him no. He took off his belt, and he beat me with it." Another uncharacteristic pause for Alan, causing Scott's concern for him to grow; usually the teenage boy wasn't this silent. "You can guess what happened from there."

At that, the door creaked open. Alan moved away from the door as one of the law enforcement officers, if one wanted to call him that, made his way in. "Well, well, lookie who we have here," the man sneered. He nodded at his partner, who grabbed Alan by his arm and forced him to stand up. Scott moved towards Alan, only to be shoved down by another worker. The same worker who held Alan held a gun directly against his head.

"Here's how this is going to work," the first man said. Scott could only stare helplessly at his younger brother, his anxiety growing. "You are all going to sign these papers, saying that you're guilty, or I will kill your youngest comrade."

Scott and Virgil exchanged worried looks. Gordon's eyes darkened, and his look of horror grew. "If you resist me, or say no to me, I won't hesitate to shoot. I've hurt everyone here but Scott," the man added, "and you _know_ I won't hesitate."

It took all of Scott's willpower not to take a flying leap towards the man. As if sensing that was what Scott wanted to do, the first person dropped the paper on the floor next to Scott and then dropped the pen. "Sign it. You're guilty of not having your passport on the person. If you hesitate, we shoot Alan," the man said.

Swallowing hard and not even bothering to read the paper, knowing that whether he signed it or not, the fate would come true to him. Scott closed his eyes as the man took it, a smirk on his face. He placed another one in front of Virgil, and finally, another one in front of Gordon. Following his lead, neither boy read it and just signed it, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Alan – he hadn't hesitated to hurt them before.

"Good," the first man said. He grinned evilly at Alan, nodding to his comrade, who shoved him to the floor. Scott clenched his teeth in anger. It took all of his willpower not to plummet the man that hurt his little brother. Who had hurt every single one of his little brothers physically, except for John, who thank God wasn't there.

"Your turn," the man said. "Sign it, or I'll shoot your brothers."

Swallowing hard, Alan signed the paper without hesitation. The man smirked as he snatched it from Alan's hand.

"Good," the first man said. "You have signed that you are guilty of a crime. You have 72 hours until you will be sold on our auction block."

"B-but slavery's illegal," Virgil stuttered. When International Rescue had first started, Virgil had dug around into international law, knowing the boys may need it at some point.

The man smirked. "That's just too bad, isn't it? We're _above the law_," he added, a happy grin on his face. "We are an island. We make our own laws."

Scott's face darkened as he looked at Alan, his youngest brother, who was laying on the cold, hard, cement floor. "It doesn't matter if you make your own laws. The United Nations has specific laws that every human being must follow."

"I think you're missing the point of what I'm trying to tell you," the first man said. "I think this one's an idiot, and doesn't understand simple directions," he said, pointing at Scott. Scott scowled but didn't say anything. "That will hurt his selling price."

"We don't have to mention that in the advertisement," the man said with a shrug. "Here's how this will work. We have moved to a secure, underground facility on our island. It's barely visible above ground and nobody has found us before – so don't think your people can rescue you. Anyway, once you are arrested and charged, you have 96 hours to be proven innocent. You have just admitted your guilt. You have 72 hours until you're sold. We'll be posting a bidding section shortly. Enjoy your few, remaining hours together."

With that, he left the room, leaving the four members of International Rescue staring after him in shock.

"Shit," was all Virgil could think to say.

* * *

><p>John Tracy was worried. They had not heard from any of the brothers – not a word. Lady Penelope had gone and scouted out the island in question. There was no sign of even the Thunderbird, the Tracy Jet. John's heart bled for his brothers, and he prayed silently that they weren't hurt.<p>

"John," his father said. He looked exhausted, and handed him the box.

"Damn," John said as he opened the box, not even bothering to watch his language. His father must have already opened the box, because he didn't seem surprised at the boxes' contents. There were pictures of each of his brothers in the box, and the words "for sale" written on the back of each paper.

There was a law enforcement document – supposedly official for the island – that John had no doubt each of his brothers had been forced to sign. It said they were guilty of "not having their passport directly on their person," and as such, would be sold into slavery.

"Slavery's illegal," John Tracy muttered darkly as he looked through the contents of the box. There was more, too, that disturbed John. Scott's favorite jacket; everyone's watch… and then finally the video.

"I haven't watched it yet," Jeff said wordlessly as he handed it to John. "I was too busy trying to digest the letters. United Nations said that they will go to the island and talk to the law enforcement officers, but if we can't find your brothers on the island, our hands may be tied legally for right this second. With that being said, we are International Rescue, and there will still be things we can do."

John nodded as he shoved the video into the VCR. Brains came in, dropping himself into one of the chairs.

The video opened:

"My name is Scott, and I am guilty of not having my passport on my individual person. I plead guilty."

The video changed to Virgil. "My name is Virgil, and I am guilty of not having my passport on my individual person. I plead guilty."

Then, to Gordon. John's face darkened as he saw the three burn marks on his brothers' arm. "I don't think he got those during the rescue," John whispered to his father.

"My name is Gordon, and I'm guilty of not having my passport on my person." Gordon was slapped and pushed to the floor. "Say the right script!" a voice said in the background. Gordon was forced to push himself off the cement floor and stand again. "My name is Gordon, and I am not having my passport on my individual person. I am g-guilty."

John's heart bled for Gordon – his brother never stuttered. Well, almost never.

Then came Alan. "My name Is Alan, and I am guilty of not having my passport on my individual person. I am guilty."

John's eyes darkened as he took in his youngest brothers' appearance. Oh, he was going to shoot whoever did this to his youngest brother.

Then a new face came on the screen. "These men have been found guilty as charged. They will be sold within 72 hours. Please do not send any workers to our island without a passport on their person. It is against our law."

With that, the video clicked off, leaving John Tracy and Jefferson Tracy worried and speechless.


	5. Just About Sold

Scott groaned as he shifted ever so slightly, praying that the man wouldn't see his movement. He had been standing in the same spot, his hands on the wall, for over an hour. Their kidnappers (that's what they were, really; they certainly weren't law enforcement officers) had decided that he needed to be managed and punished. They'd told him to stand up straight and put his hand against the wall. He hadn't been told the second part of what would happen.

The verbal abuse had started then. Scott had to close his eyes and push his hand against the brick wall to keep himself from beating the man to death. He also had to fight the steady stream of thoughts coming to his mind, the thoughts that told him that he was worthless, that told him that… he clenched his teeth again. He wouldn't repeat any of the other things, because quite frankly, they just weren't worth repeating.

Virgil sat, huddled in a corner against the back wall. He was safely out of the men's attention for now, but his heart bled for Scott. He, too, had to curl his hands to keep from punching the man. His brother wasn't worthless. Hell, he was the commander of Thunderbird One, and had saved dozens of lives – and that only tipped on the top of the iceburg for what his brother had done. Virgil sighed, bowing his head on his knees, which he hugged closely to his chest. He heard the man's abuse, and winced at the language the man used.

Finally, after what felt like hours to Virgil (but was probably longer for Scott), the man left. Scott was roughly shoved to the floor, and had to use his hands to protect him and break his fall to the ground. His hands were scraped and bleeding, and his lip was chapped. It took him a second to pick himself back up again.

"You all right, Scott?" Virgil asked, not even bothering to ask if his brother was okay. He'd watched that, it wasn't directed towards him, and it still hurt. He couldn't imagine how his brother was feeling.

"Yeah," Scott muttered icily, "just lovely and dandy." He winced as he leaned back against the wall. "You know they're splitting us up, right?"

"What?" Virgil asked. It was the first time that he'd given thought to the fact that he could easily be separated by his brothers in a heartbeat by these men. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge it before.

"They're putting me with you, and Gordon with Alan." Scott leaned his head against the brown, bricked wall and closed his eyes. Two minutes of silence had passed – Virgil knew this because he counted all 180 seconds. "They have a buyer for Gordon and Alan already," he said. Virgil didn't have to look at his brother to know that Scott was pressing tears back, and that they weren't tears of joy.

"What?" Virgil asked, his mouth agape.

"The buyer is coming to look at them tonight," Scott said. He sighed as he glanced around the empty room. "We have to get out of here, Virgil, and for the life of me, I just don't know how."

## break ##

Gordon Tracy was not a happy camper. For one thing, to use that term, you actually had to be camping, didn't you? He was certainly _not _camping. And even if this could be considered camping (they were living pretty primitively, after all) Gordon didn't think that this was anything to be happy about.

Reaching up to feel the bruise he knew was all too-evident on his cheek, Gordon sighed. The men were taking Alan for his bathroom break. These guys were "trademarked experts," if you wanted to call any of them that, in the kidnapping field. They'd apparently read every evil overlord book, and read it twice. They had made no mistakes.

Alan had been forced to spend the last twenty minutes (or however long – the time had really been a blur for Gordon) watching Gordon be 'questioned', if one wanted to call it that.

"_You fool," the first man had said as he'd slapped Gordon. "That's no excuse. Passports should always be carried on your person, 24/7. Didn't your mother ever tell you that?" another slap. _

_Gordon swallowed hard, watching as Alan bit his lip. He hated the fact that his brother had to watchi him suffer through this, __but he'd rather it be him than Alan._

The interrogation had continued – pointless questions for an hour. Gordon closed his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Alan asked, watching his older brother with concern. He'd been around his older brothers long enough (nineteen years, to be exact), and he knew how to read them. Somewhat. Scott was still much better at that than he was.

"My head hurts," Gordon said honestly. He winced as the first man slipped in again.

"Your buyers will be here to look at you soon," he said.

Alan's temper flared, and he interrupted the man. "I'm not – we're not – your property! You can't just label us and say we're for sale!"

The man slapped Alan, causing Alan's hand to fly up protectively to cover his mouth. He was shoved to the floor, quickly. "Yes, you are our damn property, and the sooner you recognize that, the better off you'll be."

"Don't hurt him!" Gordon said, lunging to the other man. With that said, another man came through to the room. He was carrying a bucket of water. The first man let go of Alan, and he started to sit up, only to watch his brother be slammed into the cement wall.

"You will listen to us," the first man hissed, "For the remainder of your time here. Or you'll suffer for it more than you already have." He nodded towards the first man.

With that, the entire bucket of water was dumped on Gordon.

## break ##

The meeting for the buyers was intense. Gordon and Alan were kept in the corner, unable to speak. Gordon was still freezing cold from the bucket of water that had been dumped on him, but he was doing his best not to complain in front of Alan.

"These are the men," the first man said. The second one looked at them closely, but didn't speak. "I assume they can work quickly and under pressure."

"Of course," one of their captors said. Gordon realized that, at that point, they hadn't actually known any of the law enforcement officers' names.

The first buyer went over towards Gordon, and Gordon lowered his eyes, just as he had been told. He had no desire to bring harm on himself, or God forbid, his brother.

"How old are they?" the second one asked, speaking up for the first time. He watched as the first man turned Gordon's cheek, running his finger down his bruise. It took all of Gordon's willpower not to jerk his head out of the psycho's hand.

"They're both eighteen," their captor spoke up. Gordon bristled at the lie, but didn't move. The psycho finally removed his hand and smacked Gordon in the cheek. "They are twins."

It took all of his willpower not to react to that – both the audacity of the lie and the smack towards his face.

_I am not their property, _Alanthought as the man walked over to him, inspecting him much in the same way as Gordon.

"Let us talk about a sale," the first man said.

One of their captors followed the first man and second man out of the room. Gordon swallowed dry saliva. It was real – he and Alan were about to be split from the rest of their brothers.

Their second captor walked over to the two, holding out what looked like a TV dinner to Gordon. Gordon took it wearily, looking it over for anything that might explode in his face.

"You did good, Gordon," the first man said. He ruffled Gordon's hair. Gordon yanked himself away, not liking the close contact touch. "Alan, for your disobedience, you can't eat tonight. Gordon, if you share with Alan, you won't be able to eat either, and you'll be beaten." The man smiled happily at this, as if there was some inside joke to it (which there probably was).

Gordon looked at the food and then looked at Alan. He would have happily given his dinner to his brother, but it didn't seem to be an option. In a way, he knew that he would control how much his brother suffered here.

"No," Gordon said. He set the dinner back on the floor. "I'm not eating until Alan gets something, too." He didn't look at Alan's face.

"Well," the man said, "you'll both go hungry until you get sold, then. Don't worry, that will happen pretty quickly. If you're real good, you might maybe get to see your brothers before you go… what do you think about that, huh?"

With that, he took the television dinner, and left the room with a resounding clang of the door.

## break ##

So, will Gordon and Alan be sold? If they are sold - who will their captors be? Is the Hood involved anywhere in this? Please r&R!


	6. Hugs Goodbye

From Virgil's best estimate, he and his brothers had been held captive for a little over 72 hours. He had been desperate for communication from John or from his father; from anyone off the island. Not that he didn't want to see his brothers, because he did, especially if they were going to be sold (a notion he was still struggling to deal with).

But he wished desperately for someone, anyone, a friendly face to rush in and save day. After enduring his hour of emotional abuse (because that's what it was), Scott had drifted off to sleep. That had left Virgil the only one awake in a dark, gray area.

Virgil sighed as he hugged his knees to his chest, and gently rested his head on his hands. Really, he hated this whole place, the officers who were corrupt, if they were even able to be officers; the people who had held them captive. He hated that they'd hurt his brothers. He hated that they'd held a gun to Alan's head. The kid was only nineteen, after all; he didn't deserve this. None of them deserved it.

He flashed back, unwillingly, to the verbal abuse Scott had taken only hours before.

_Flashback_

"_Your operation is poorly run," the man taunted. He leaned against the wall, looking Scott directly in the eye. Scott refused to acknowledge the man, but Virgil knew the mans' words were getting to his brother. His jaw was clenched, and he had to rest his hand firmly on the wall to prevent himself from reaching out and striking the man. _

_Once again, a case of where they probably could have taken the man, but couldn't do it because of the risk it posed to their younger brothers. Virgil's teeth clenched as the insults only increased._

"_You're a worthless human being who obviously doesn't have any respect for the laws at hand!" _Words of abuse that his brother should have never had to hear. _  
><em>

Virgil must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by Scott. "Hey," his brother said. Virgil instantly noticed three things – one, Scott was exhausted; two, they had been moved, three – it was now nighttime. The dark light came from the now windowless room.

"What's wrong?" Virgil asked as Scott sank onto the ground. They were now sitting on a nice, dirt floor. _Man, how hard had he napped, and how long had he been out? _Obviously, awhile. "Besides the obvious, I mean," he added hastily at Scott's dark look.

Scott exhaled slowly. Virgil got a feeling that he didn't want to know this information, but that he wouldn't have much of a choice. After three minutes, Scott spoke up. "They've sold Alan and Gordon," he said in a husky voice. Virgil had to stop himself from responding verbally, knowing that his brother had more information that he might not share if Virgil launched into him. It seemed that his brother was in a dark space right now, and personally, Virgil didn't blame him. He didn't know if he could have taken the abuse "as well" as Scott had.

"They said we get to say good-bye. They're going to come for us in a few minutes," Scott said. He sighed as he leaned back against the wall.

"Has it really been 96 hours since we've been kidnapped?" Virgil asked, his mouth agape. He hadn't thought that it had been, but who knew?

"I don't think so. I overheard one of them saying that they were selling them early. Apparently, they got a 'really good offer'," Scott replied, using quote marks on the last three words. He looked disgusted, and Virgil felt the same way. "I mean, dear God, Virgil, they're selling human _beings_!" he let out a frustrated hiss. "I just don't think they understand that," he added helplessly.

"I'm right there with you," Virgil replied, agreeing with his brother wholeheartedly. The uneasy feeling in his gut only grew when he heard what sounded like a key rattling in the door. He forced himself to exhale slowly as the man came in, preparing himself mentally for whatever was about to happen next.

Virgil was sure it would be nothing good.

* * *

><p>Gordon Tracy was not happy. He was really, really upset, actually, come to think of it. He sighed as he leaned back against the wall, looking at his younger brother, Alan. Alan looked even less happy than he did. Both boys had just been informed that they'd been sold.<p>

There was an uneasy feeling in Gordon's gut that had settled there and just wouldn't leave him alone. He knew that what was about to happen would be bad. He had been stupid, and he knew it, and he'd been punished for it. His captors, after they'd met with the buyers, had taken him outside of the police station. He'd decided to attempt to escape, and had broken free of one of the police officers' holds.

Gordon had gotten exactly fifteen footsteps of freedom before he'd been recaptured. This time, the bad guys had put handcuffs on him. They'd taken him back to the police station and had beaten him so badly that he had – almost – worried that one of his ribs had been broken. It truly was a classic example of police brutality, Gordon thought. At least they'd patched him up; Gordon now was sporting a classic black brace and was wearing a sling.

"How's your arm?" Alan finally asked after the men had left about fifteen minutes later.

Gordon shrugged. "It hurts, but I'll live," he said. He glanced at his younger brother. "What about you?"

"I'm sore, but I'll live," Alan responded with a shrug. He was still sporting a few bruises from his beating, but he'd managed to heal quickly. "You never told me why they decided to attack you," he added thoughtfully.

It took Gordon a minute before he responded. "They took me outside, and I tried to escape. In retrospect, it was probably stupid. I mean, this is an island, and you all are here. But I couldn't _not_ try."

"How far did you make it?"

"About fifteen steps. These guys aren't just good, Alan, they're damn good." Gordon winced as he rested against the back wall.

"That's okay with me," Alan said with a shrug.

Gordon turned to his brother, looking at him as if he had three heads. "…And why is that?"

"Because that just gives Scott that much more ammunition to hurt them later."

The statement made Gordon chuckle for the first time since he'd been captured, and he had to admit it felt good. At least he would be with one brother when he was sold.

* * *

><p>The meeting – the good-bye, really – between brothers was tense. Although Scott displayed no visible bruises, Alan knew something must have happened, because Scott seemed more defeated than usual. Virgil seemed to be no worse for wear other than a new, interestingly colored black eye.<p>

"Scott," Alan said, whispering in his oldest brothers' ear, "I love you." Scott, feeling a sense of relief for the first time since his hour of verbal abuse, breathed a tired sigh as he embraced his younger brother. God, how he hoped for a rescue – an escape plan – anything. Anything to get them out of this desperate situation they were in.

Tense good-byes were exchanged. "I'm sorry," Scott whispered. When he said that, Alan knew his intuition was right - Scott _was _upset, but about what?

"It's not your fault, Scott." Surprisingly, it was Gordon's turn to speak up. "It's our captors' fault. They're the ones who care about nothing but money."

Scott slowly nodded and embraced Gordon.

Twenty minutes later, the men came back, and escorted Gordon and Alan out of the room, leaving Virgil and Scott alone in the dark room, praying that wherever their brothers were sent, they'd be reunited, and that they wouldn't be treated too badly.

It seemed to be a fleeting prayer, one that had withdrawn, empty hope.

* * *

><p>Challenge: Gordon and Alan have been sold... What will happen to Scott and Virgil?<p>

Please R&R! Thanks for those of you who have taken the time to review. I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to them yet.


	7. Just Property

Alan felt sick to his stomach as he and Gordon were escorted off the plane. The hardest thing he had done in his life had just been accomplished. He couldn't help but feel that his life was being ripped apart. He hated leaving Virgil and Scott behind on the island. What would happen to them?

What would happen to himself and Gordon? Alan had never been so grateful to have his second-oldest brother with him. He didn't care if it made him sound like a wimp. He was glad he wouldn't have to endure these psychopaths alone.

The two brothers were forced into a tiny, dingy room that was barely lit. There were two cots on the floor, both of which had thin blue blankets on top of them. Alan dropped to the cot and sank down wearily. Gordon, who was not about to just give in if he could help it, was roughly pushed into the room. He turned to the door, only to have it slammed shut in his face.

"I'm sorry, Alan," Gordon said as he looked at his brother. "You shouldn't be caught in this mess."

Alan raised an eyebrow. If the time had been less serious, he would have laughed. Gordon apologizing to him? "It's not your fault," he said with a shrug, "It's their fault."

"Yeah," Gordon muttered, "But that's not going to make this any easier to endure." He sighed as he pushed himself off of the floor and made his way towards the green, worn and threadbare cot. Exhaling forcefully, Gordon dropped himself on the bed and closed his eyes.

Looking at his normally active brother, Alan grew even more concerned. He and Gordon had been separated during the transport. He wondered what had happened during Gordon's transport, because Gordon looked absolutely exhausted. Alan's anger flared as he realized that Gordon was still wearing his arm in a sling. He exhaled slowly.

The door creaked open, and Alan winced as he saw the man come in. Gordon slowly pulled himself up. Alan glanced at him again. He did truly look exhausted, in all terms of the word. A man entered the doorway, grinning evilly. Alan estimated him to be mid-30s, white, with jet-black hair that was darker than Scotts'. Alan inwardly sighed, wishing that he and Gordon could just go home.

Yet he knew that they would not be able to "just go home" for a long time.

The man smiled, two brown envelopes in his hand. "Gordon," he said, "I'll need to speak with you personally, first. Alan, you can just hold tight until your brother gets back, right?" As Gordon rose from the bed, Alan winced. He just had this awful feeling this was not going to be good.

## break ##

Gordon glanced at the man wearily. Normally, he would have fought and resisted the man, he would have insulted him, or he would have at least pulled a prank on him. But Gordon wasn't allowed to do any of that.

_Flashback_

_"Anything you do or don't do, say or don't say will reflect on Alan," the man said. They were in the plane. Alan was somewhere on the same plane, but Gordon had no way to get to him. He swallowed hard as he realized the extent of what the man was saying. Anything Gordon did, or if Gordon didn't listen to the man, would make Alan be punished._

_"I'm guessing that you understand what I mean." The man ginned at him evilly. "Good luck escaping without your brother being punished."_

_End flashback_

"Your father has been waiting for a long time to give you this," the man said. His smile was slightly misty, although if one looked a certain way, they might notice the sinister edge to his smile.

Gordon swallowed hard and took the package. He knew that this wouldn't be good somehow. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes and opened the envelope gently. He slowly pulled out the documents. Everything had his first name on it… with a different last name.

He looked at the man, his mouth agape. "What?" he said, nearly stuttering. They had gotten him a fake photo ID. Wonderful.

The man only smiled. "When you were younger, your father loved you very much. He has been tracking you down, but has never been able to find you. You were put in the foster care system when your mother died."

"T…That's not true," Gordon said, his mouth dropping open.

"I'm afraid it is true," the man responded. He grinned at Gordon, making the 20-year-old feel even sicker to his stomach. Even if it was true… he wasn't this man's son, he was his fathers' son. "Who is this man, even?" Gordon said, now absolutely furious. He had asked Scott once if he was really Jeff Tracy's son, and Scott had said he remembered Gordon being born.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Gordon thought, _Scott wouldn't lie, would he_?

The man smiled. "His name is Balleh, but you know him better as The Hood," he responded. He checked his watch. "He'll here shortly, ready to welcome you into the family."

As soon as the man left, Gordon knelt by the brown waste basket and threw up everything he'd eaten within the last 72 hours, which quite frankly, wasn't very much at all.

He then tucked his knees against his chest and prayed to God that the Hood was lying.

## break ##

Alan glared at the man. There was no way in hell he was Gordon's father. Wouldn't he have said something all the times he had attacked them? Wouldn't he have tried to make Gordon his son before now? The theory made absolutely no since and sickened Alan to his very core.

"You, on the other hand," the man said with a sneer, "were just brought along for the ride. I know that the Hood has some _good _ideas for what to do with you," he added. He grinned wildly, his showing.

"You can't make me do that," Alan said nervously. Truth be told, he knew that they could make him do just about anything, especially by threatening Gordon, but he wasn't the type to just roll over and cooperate, even if he suffered for it.

"You don't understand," the first man said. "Let me lay it out for you matter-of-factly, since you so refuse to cooperate."

_Yeah, I'm a real sinner_, Alan thought as he sat perched on the green cot. He swallowed hard, knowing that he wasn't going to like what was about to come.

"You are our property," the man began. Alan flinched at the word _property_, because he was no-one's property. He swallowed hard, wanting to tell the man that but knowing that he would only be beaten. "You don't have a choice but to do what we say. Got it?"

"No," Alan responded. He jutted his chin out and steeled himself, ready for the beating he knew was to come.

It happened faster than he expected. Within seconds, he was on the floor. Swallowing hard, he shifted himself so that he could look up at the man. He was roughly slapped and was shoved against the floor.

"After the end of this," the man said, taking off his belt, "We'll see how much you resist me."

"Go to hell," Alan said, furious at the man for insinuating that Alan was his property. What did he think Alan was – merchandise?

_Of course he did,_ Alan thought as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the pavement, gasping as he felt the first blow.

## break ##

Virgil swallowed hard as he held his hands behind his head. He felt the handcuffs lock, and closed his eyes. He and Scott had just been sold into slavery. Duration of time – who knew; it could have been the rest of their life. Before Scott had taken his nap, Scott had told him to stay hopeful; but it was hard for Virgil. He didn't think that he could even consider the fact that he and his brothers could be split up for quite possibly years.

Scott was handcuffed too, and was forced to follow Virgil. They were not allowed to see the men who had brought them, as they had arrived in black masks. The men knew who they had purchased; the leader had spent time jeering Scott for being apart of International Rescue.

The plane ride was short, way too short for Virgil's liking. Of course, any plane ride to his new "home" would have been too short, he thought. It had probably been about two hours by plane; heaven only knew how many hours away by car.

In silence, the brothers were lead to their new cave. Virgil swallowed hard, praying desperately that they would be able to escape, even though he knew it was virtually hopeless. The two brothers had been blindfolded – or at least Virgil assumed Scott had been blindfolded, too – and were being forced to make their way through muddy terrain.

Virgil perked up at that. Mud meant that it had rained previously. Not that the small fact meant anything, but at least he was able to tell something about where they were. Virgil heard the door creak open to a room, and he was roughly thrust down on the floor. Unable to catch himself, his stomach bore the brunt of his burden. Unable to catch himself, his stomach bore the brunt of his burden, although his face definitely caught the pavement.

His blindfold was roughly yanked off, and his hands were freed from the cuffs. He noticed his brother, Scott, who had likely had the same treatment. His brother gently shook his head and tried to force himself up, only to be pushed down by another man's brown, ugly boot.

"We control the rules here," the first man said. He smacked Scott across the back of his head, sending Scott's face to the floor once more. "Welcome to your new _home_, boys."

With that, he and his companion walked away, leaving Virgil looking at a very worried Scott and trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

## break ##

8/25/2053

LEADER AND FOUNDER OF INTERNATIONAL RESCUE

MEMO: ISLAND IN THE SOUTH PECIFIC

To all who this concerns, there is a small island in the South Pacific that recently had requested International Rescue's help. They accepted the help from four members of the International Rescue, who were all brothers. After the rescue was accomplished, the four boys were locked in a prison cell.

Their crime: Not having identification on their person or not carrying a passport.

As you all know, International Rescue relies on its secrecy to make things work. When the leader of International Rescue tried to contact the chief of police on the island to resolve the situation, he denied contact and instead sent a video.

Four brothers, who wanted nothing but to help a planet, have been kidnapped by law enforcement officers who shouldn't even be wearing the badge. Hours later, a ransom video was released with one problem – there was nothing International Rescue could do to provide rescue. Now, International Rescue is without some of its key members, and is forced to go on auto until the situation is resolved.

Photos have been attached of the missing boys. Anyone who has abducted or bought these boys will be served the swiftest punishment.

LADY PENELOPE

"I can't believe they're still missing," John said, walking across the beach with his father. It had been just over 100 hours since the rescue call. Nearly every law enforcement officer in the world was on the lookout for the international rescue boys, to no avail. John's heart broke for his brothers.

"I know," Jeff said, scanning the ocean. His face was tight with worry, and John knew he was blaming himself for this.

"J-J-John!" Fermat said, running across the ocean. He had wisely stayed out of Jeff's sight the last few days. Only a year younger than Alan, he too was a member of International Rescue, but was also going to college online to pursue his dream of working with machines. The reason why he had been left behind: a simple test that he needed to take.

"We g-g-g-o – received a video!" he said, handing it out to John.

"This can't be good," John said with a sinking feeling in his gut as he looked at his father.

The trio marched through the sand to the house. When they entered the room, Brains smiled at Jeff and nodded, ready to see if he could get any type of tracing on it whatsoever.

With this in mind, Jeff stuck the video in and pressed play.

## break ##

Challenge: What's on that video?

Sorry for the belated update! Please enjoy.


	8. The Video With DNA

John slid the video into the television, and Brains hit the tracer. It was unlikely they'd be able to get a location, but they would sure as hell try. John had to cough to clear his throat as the video started. Only he, his father, and Brains were in the room. Lady Penelope had flown with Parker somewhere earlier on a mission that only she knew about.

The Hood's face was clear on the video, grinning with contempt. "You have had the chance to save your comrades, your family, and you have failed," he said. "International Rescue will never be able to rescue anyone again when this is done. You'll never be able to rescue your brothers."

John's fist tightened.

"You thought that the island was selling your sons, I presume, Mr. Tracy? In a way, that is true; they were. The island rescue was entirely staged. My workers staged the rescue, saying that we needed your help. We did, if we wanted to keep the island from flooding. My workers dressed as policeman, brought the boys to me, and we set up a fake auction of sorts. Of course, I was the one who won both sets of boys," he added.

It was all John could do keep himself breathing as the video turned towards his brothers. The first scene flashed on Scott, who had his hands on the wall. John could clearly hear the verbal abuse his brother was forced to undergo, and his stomach sank. He knew that the Hood had likely singled out Scott because he was the oldest and no doubt the most likely to cause trouble.

The next scene flashed to Gordon, who told the men that he wouldn't sign the papers saying he was guilty. John had to hide his grin at that – he was immensely proud of his younger brother. His eyes flickered to dark, however, when he saw the man take his BIC lighter and burn his baby brothers' arm.

Alan was the next one. He was asked to write something saying he was guilty. John wasn't at all surprised when his youngest brother refused. It was all he could do to keep from punching the television screen, however, when his younger brother was shoved to the floor.

There was no showing of Virgil, which made John worry for his brother.

"I own your sons now, Mr. Tracy," the Hood responded. "Oh, yes. And one more thing. Gordon Tracy is mine, and has always been mine. He saw the DNA proof today."

Then the video screen went black.

## break ##

Scott hung his head in pure exhaustion. He and Virgil had been kept up the last twenty-four hours, and hadn't been allowed to sleep. Their captor – a man who had not yet introduced himself – had seen Virgil starting to nod off, and after slapping Virgil to keep him awake, had separated the two because he thought Scott was "letting Virgil off too easy."

He still hadn't seen Virgil. A worried feeling settled in Scott's gut, but unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. Their captors had already decided that Scott was a trouble maker, and every step out of line Scott took was recorded and he was punished for it.

Closing his eyes, Scott leaned his head against the wall. His heart ached for Gordon and Alan, who had been sold hours before Virgil and Scott. He was nervous for Gordon, who had already obtained injuries on one of his arms and had probably had his other one broken. The memory of their captor holding the gun to Alan's head made Scott's blood boil.

The men who had kidnapped them were definitely not law enforcement officers, that was clear, Scott thought. Then again, he thought as he adjusted his back, it was possible that they were. Virgil had done some research on international law when International Rescue had started, and so were Scot. Unfortunately, what the men were saying was true. They were an island, independent of the law of the United Nations.

Scott had no idea if that made them able to do what they pleased or not. He did know, however, that his father would move heaven and earth to get them home again. He had heard Virgil's concerns last night in their few minutes alone that they might indeed be captured and slaves for the rest of their lives. While Scott was quick to assure him that wouldn't happen, an uneasy feeling in his gut had settled. What if they were?

Scott shifted once more and prayed that sleep would take him, and that morning would never come.

At least not until John rescued them.

It was the only hope he could cling too right now.

## break ##

Alan glanced up as Gordon came back in the room. His brother didn't look much better than he did. Alan had a split lip, a bruised jaw, and he was sure he had black and blue marks on his back from the man's vicious belt swing.

Gordon's arm sported a black brace, tucked independently in a blue sling. His other arm still had the burn marks that he'd gotten from not complying with the man's demand for a signature. "Hey," he said softly, sinking on the cot that had been given to them. His eyes flickered to the thin blue blanket that was all they had to sleep with. The blanket itself was practically threadbare, and Alan wondered what protection it would provide.

"What happened?" Alan demanded. When his older brother had gone out, he'd still had hope in his eyes. Now, that hope was no longer there, and Alan was worried.

Gordon shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said as he moved towards the dresser. Alan had looked in it earlier. It had clothes in both Gordon's and Alan's size. Either someone had gone out and done shopping really quick, or someone had been planning this for a long time. Either way, it made Alan feel uneasy.

"Gordon," Alan said, abandoning the cot, "I need to know. We're in this together, remember?"

Gordon shot him a withering look as he placed the package he had been holding on the dresser. "Yeah, I guess," he said. He maneuvered his way back to the cot and collapsed onto it. Alan followed his mode, only he sat on the cot, not yet ready to lay down.

And he waited.

Closing his eyes, Gordon began. "The Hood said I'm his son," he said softly. He rolled over on his side and looked directly at Alan. The 19-year-old sat in stunned silence, too shocked to believe that his brother could be related to the Hood in any way, shape or form.

Alan chose to remain silent, knowing his brother wasn't finished yet. He'd only seen Gordon like this once, and that was after his hydrofoil accident. Then, Gordon had needed the exact same time and space to talk that he no doubt did now.

"I just…." If it was possible, his older brother seemed to sink even further into the sheets. "Did Dad…is it…"

He wanted to tell his older brother that the Hood was absolutely lying; that there was no way that his brother could ever be related to the Hood.

"Go look in the envelope," Gordon said, gesturing towards the brown envelope on the desk. Alan wearily pushed himself off his cot, wondering why Gordon wanted him to open the content.

The first thing he pulled out was a press release, detailing Gordon's birth. Alan noted that Gordon had always been called Gordon, but had a different last name. He pulled out the very convincing photo identification and wondered when the Hood had gotten it. A few other pieces of "documentation" were also pulled out.

And then the kicker – the one that probably had his brother so emotionally messed up – the blood test, saying that Gordon was related to the Hood. There, in black and white, was the Hood's clear "proof" that Gordon Tracy was his son.

## break ##

A/N: Whoa, a lot of emotions in this chapter. Here's your challenge: How long are our boys going to be held hostage? You can leave your answer in a review or vote on the poll on my profile page. I look forward to your guesses and your reviews!


	9. Ruined Dreams?

A/N: Wow, an update! This is to say "Thanks" to those who took the time to review. We got enough people reviewing that I was motivated to update tonight. I'll try and update Rough Landings tomorrow!

## break ##

When the video ended, John turned around to face his father. It was evident that the Hood had to be lying about the DNA proof. After all, the Hood had stooped so low as to attack them directly on Tracy Island, right? He certainly wouldn't mind faking a few pieces of paper that looked convincing to either attempt to brainwash Gordon or otherwise make him comply with the Hood's demands.

Taking in a breath of air, John knew that he had had to get up the nerve to speak. When he finally spoke, his voice was a little more than a whisper. "Dad," he said, then glanced at Brains, and paused, "It's not true, is it?"

Jeff Tracy slowly exhaled and slumped into the chair, burying his face in his hands. "Brains, you can leave," he said.

"T-thank you, Mr. Tracy." With that, Brains darted out of the room. John had a sinking feeling that he knew something that John himself didn't. Hanging his head, John had to steel himself to look at his father again.

"John," Jeff said with a tired sigh, "You know I always have treated every child in this family like they're my son, and that your mother did the same, right?"

"Yes…" John said, not seeing where his father was going with this. Actually, he knew full well where his father was going with this; he just hoped to God that he was wrong.

"It was twelve months before your mother was pregnant with Gordon," Jeff said. His voice came out in a short, clipped tone, like the last thing he wanted to be doing was telling someone this. John didn't blame him, but he needed to know the information.

"We had just been told that it was unlikely she could have any more children. We were devastated, of course; your mother and I had both wanted five children for as long as we could remember. But we hung in there, regardless. One night, your mother was coming home from the hospital where she worked – she was still working full-time at that point. She had taken over an evening shift as a favor for a friend, who had to go home because she wasn't feeling well."

John wanted to demand to know where this was going, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut he already knew.

"Your mother walked out to the car. Normally, when she worked late at night she would always have someone accompanying her. But that night, she didn't. They were understaffed because it was a holiday, and… well, you know your mother, she was the type of person who never wanted to inconvenience anyone."

John slowly nodded. It sounded like something from a horror movie – not something that could have happened to the great and mighty Tracy family. Not that John really considered them great and mighty at that moment.

"Her hospital she worked at… Well, it wasn't in the best of neighborhoods. I wanted to tell her not to work there, purely because of the location. But you know your mother - always kind and always giving back. She started to unlock the key to her car when someone grabbed her from behind and shoved her in their car. You can guess what happened there… anyway; the man, he was after one thing, and one thing only." Jeff slammed his table on the fist in disgust. "And he got it."

John felt physically sick to his stomach. His mother had been… assaulted by a monster. But what did this have to do with the Hood? He had a bad feeling he was about to find out.

"The man who assaulted her was the Hood," Jeff said softly. He went over to the window and stared out, looking over the vast sky. "I didn't know until years later, of course. But your mother… she became pregnant again, and had a baby. It was your brother… Gordon."

_Oh, God, _John thought, _it was true! _How his brother must be feeling – he couldn't imagine. And he had no way to know if it was truth or a life. "Dad," he asked, "Did you ever get Gordon DNA tested?"

Jeff shrugged. "There was no point at the time. Gordon was, and still is, my child, and I will never treat him any differently than I treat the rest of you. At the time, your mother and I couldn't really afford a DNA test. By the time we could, Alan had been born, and… We just felt there wasn't a point."

"So there's still a chance Gordon could be yours?" John questioned.

"Gordon is my son, John. DNA related or not," Jeff responded. He rose from where he was sitting and stretched. "I believe I have an idea about where the boys may be hidden. I need to call an old friend."

_In other words, yes, Gordon could be your son, but you're scared that he isn't and that's why you're refusing the DNA testing, _John thought as he watched his father walk down the hallway.

He had to see one of his brothers soon. Any of them. It was just too quiet on the island without them.

And he was scared to death of what was happening to them.

He wanted to see them again and reassure himself that everything was going to be okay, because right now, it was as if his world was being tilted on one gigantic axis.

Now, he was going to break out of his "Mr. Nice Guy" role. The Hood was destroying his family. And by God, he'd move heaven and earth to protect them – whatever little bit he could.

## break ##

Alan and Gordon had been separated the second day that they were there at their new location. Gordon longed to see his brother again. He didn't care if they fought, or… he really just didn't care. He desperately needed to see one of his brothers

The Hood had practically given Gordon free reign of the island, but it didn't matter. It wasn't the same island they had been left on, and Gordon had no idea where he was. There were also distances of water that spread so far Gordon couldn't see any other land. He had no hope of escaping. He knew the Hood had some way to get off the island, but he couldn't find it, despite his many attempts at trying.

It had been about a week and a half since he'd been kidnapped, and there was still no hope of rescue. Even though he despised the Hood, Gordon was watching everything he said and did carefully. He was sure that the Hood was doing the same thing with him.

He knew there was a way off the island and some way to communicate with people off the island. He just didn't know where it was, or how he was going to find it and utilize it to his advantage. He figured that when his arm got better, he could attempt to swim the distance, but Gordon also knew that it would be awhile before his broken arm would heal enough to do any moving whatsoever.

He had to get home again. Alan had said that they would love him, even if he was related to the Hood, which Gordon believed from Alan. But what about his other brothers? Would they still treat him the same way, or would they shun him all because of his heritage?

He didn't know, and he didn't want to find out.

## break ##

Alan glanced up in surprise as the door opened. He'd been in the smelly, dark room for the better part of 48 hours with nothing to eat. He'd only had two bottles of water to drink, and he was starving. He'd barely eaten anything since he'd been abducted, and he had a feeling he had lost a good bit of weight.

"Virgil!" Alan exclaimed happily as he saw his older brother. He was so grateful for some contact with a friendly face. Ever since he'd been torn apart from Gordon, he had been worried about his other members of the family.

"Alan!" Virgil said, breathing a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around his brother. Although he usually wasn't a worrier – he left that task up to Scott and John – he had been worried that he would never get to see his brothers again. To see a friendly face was a huge relief.

The two brothers embraced, reveling in the fact that they were both alive and safe – the small things most people took for granted. "They hurt you," Virgil said, his eyes darkening as he took in Alan's new bruises and cuts.

They had hurt Alan – there was no doubt about that. Alan's beating had left him with a few bruises on his arms. Virgil was sure there were more.

The door slammed shut, and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were alone in the darkness. "Lift up your shirt. I need to see your other bruises," he ordered sternly, using the closest tone to what Scott usually used he could manage.

"Maybe I don't swing that way," Alan said, reveling in the playful banter. He lifted up his t-shirt, revealing the dark, ugly bruises that ran up and down his back. Virgil let out a swear word that even Scott would have reprimanded him for, and dropped the T-shirt down.

Ignoring Virgil's choice of words, Alan turned to his brother. "Do you know why we're here?"

"It's pretty simple," Virgil spat. "The Hood bought us; he wants us to be his slaves. He has apparently bought some luxurious island, and we're in charge of managing it. And I do mean island – there is no land around for miles."

Alan's hope sunk a little bit deeper. So much for a hope of easy escape.

"What about Scott?" he asked his older brother as he settled against the wall. He leaned closer to Virgil than he usually would have. Both brothers needed to know the other was there right now.

Virgil's eyes dropped to the ground. "The Hood is selling him, putting him up for auction to the highest bidder. He says he's just too much of a troublemaker to keep around."

A tear formed in Alan's eye, and he quickly brushed it off. 19 year old men did not cry. But yet… What would happen to his older brother? "What do you think will happen to him?" he asked, his voice dropping a little bit.

"I know the Hood already has some buyers lined up," Virgil said, hoarsely. "It's not good, Alan. I can't lie to you, inasmuch as I'd like to hide this from you, it's not good."

With that, the two brothers embraced, and even though each brother had teased each other about crying before, this time they let the tears flow freely.

## break ##

"Dad, we have a lead!" John said, answering his phone. It had been twenty-four hours since he'd found out that Gordon might only be his half-brother. "Dad, I think they have found Scott!"

"Fire up the Thunderbird One," Jeff said, untangling himself from where he sat. "I want us there in less than an hour. You can tell me the details on the way."

## break ##

A/N: Challenge – so is it Scott they found?

What did you think about Jeff's revelation?

Thanks for reviewing! Ten cookies apiece to everyone who reviews; as I just baked some this evening. They come custom made in your favorite Internet invisible flavor. And did I mention, thanks for reviewing? (Hint, hint)


	10. Miscommunication

John blinked twice as he looked at his father. Had he really just asked them to fire up the Thunderbird One? "Dad," he said, forcefully, "That's the ship Penny found on her mission, and it's not nearly ready to fly yet."

Penny's mission had been to go to the island with Parker. The two had found the plane buried under trees, partially burned. If not for Thunderbird technology, it would have no doubt been completely destroyed. Scott usually kept the information for the Thunderbird on him while assisting with a rescue and John had no doubt that was how the Hood had gotten onto the plane.

"Right," Jeff said.

"We'd better not fly Thunderbird two, either," John cautioned. "We don't want to be associated with the Thunderbirds. Scott was remembered as Scott, not as Commander One. I think we're best taking the Tracy One. I'll power it up."

Just as John started to take off, Brains came out from behind the hallway. "A-are you al-right, Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff Tracy sighed and collapsed into the chair. It would be a good ten minutes before the Tracy One was ready; ten more minutes before he could go off to see his son. "I should have told them," he said.

Brains knew what he was talking about. The last time the Hood had attacked, Jeff had realized that the man was the one who attacked his wife. He had been devastated, especially after realizing that Gordon could be the Hood's son, not his. When the Hood had been arrested, he'd taunted Jeff that he was going to get Gordon, no matter what.

"What's d-done is d-done, Mr. T-Tracy," Brains responded as he also sat down. "T-they – your b-boys – will not treat G-Gordon d-ifferently."

"I know," Jeff responded, "But if I told them, Gordon probably wouldn't be facing quite as much stress because he already knew there was a possibility he was related to the Hood... and he'd know I still loved him, no matter what."

A call from John, signaling the Tracy One was ready. John bid good-bye to Brains and followed through to the door.

The trip was long. Jeff could tell that John was upset about the news that Gordon could possibly be related to the Hood, and he didn't blame him. It had been a few days since their conversation, and Jeff's not revealing the information to the boys still bugged Jeff himself. He could only imagine how John must be feeling.

Finally, John spoke, breaking the silence. "I spoke to the man at the hospital before we took off, Father. He said that physically, Scott is fine. He did want to know if Scott had any speech problems, though."

"I hope you told him that Scott didn't," Jeff responded, an uneasy feeling in his gut growing.

"I did. He said he would talk to us more when we get there. I'm fearful that it's more bad news."

They arrived at the hospital in record time. While the family openly boasted about Scott being their best flyer, John rivaled a close second in terms of time. His handling capabilities were even better than Scott's in some ways, which helped.

The elevator ride felt like it took longer than the plane ride did. John was practically jumping up and down on his feet by the time they reached the fifth floor.

They were greeted by a friendly receptionist, who asked them to sit down, saying that the doctor would be with them shortly.

John tried to stay still, but he found waiting for the doctor worse than waiting for any four hour class. Finally, the doctor arrived. John recognized him instantly – he was the one who had helped Alan recover lat year after falling off the Thunderbird Two.

"Doctor," John greeted curtly. "How is he?"

"Physically, he will recover fine," the doctor responded. He was all too used to the Tracy's, and got straight to the point. "It's more mentally and emotionally that I'm worried about. I have met Scott many different times, and each time he's spoken just fine to me. However, you know his background, so that is why I wanted to speak to you first before you saw him."

John nodded his head slowly. He didn't like where this was going.

"I believe that Scott may have developed a condition called Broca's aphasi," the doctor said bluntly. "Scott was brought in two nights ago, when I was off shift. When I came on shift today, I recognized him immediately, although the other doctors had not. The doctor said that he had some swelling in his brain, probably from a beating, although he wasn't sure. While that's gone down, he's still having a very difficult time to communicate. He didn't seem to recognize me, nor want to communicate with me, but I did get him to agree to a simple speech test."

"What is… Broca… Broca's what?" Jeff asked, wishing desperately for Virgil's love of medicine.

"A rare speech disorder, Mr. Tracy. It means that Scott can interpret anything you say, but cannot respond correctly. It's possible that he can recover from it… but it can and will take awhile. I wanted you to be aware of this before you went in to see him."

Nodding, Jeff said, "Is there any way we can see him now?"

"Of course," the doctor said, "be my guest."

John stared at his older brother as he opened the door. There were so many tubes and pieces of wire there. The good news was that it was definitely Scott, though, much to John's chagrin relief.

Seeing his brother blink his eyes, he knew Scott was awake. John reached down to give him a hug. While his brother didn't pull away, John was worried by his response. He let go of his brother and glanced into his eyes.

They held no sign that he recognized John.

## break ##

Gordon felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't believe what was going on. He had made a big mistake. He knew that now. Firstly, Gordon knew that the Hood had moved him off of the island. He had been taunted that he was back on American land, but still far enough away from his family that he wouldn't be able to escape and be reunited with his family. He'd found out that the Hood had a cell phone, which he'd tried to steal. Gordon had been beaten badly for that, and been lectured by the Hood about it.

Flashback

"_I know you've wanted to escape, Gordon," the Hood had said as he looked at him. "I know what you think. Remember that," he added. Gordon had sat down wearily on his cot at that point, glancing at the floor. It had been almost a week since he'd seen Alan, and he was desperate to find his younger brother. That was his second mistake – the Hood knew what, or more specifically who, he had been after. "So you've been moved."_

_As if Gordon hadn't noticed that, he thought bitterly. The room was nicer, he'd admit; but all Gordon himself wanted was his room back on Tracy Island. Or even just to see his family again. He felt sick to his stomach. "I just want to go home," he'd whispered._

_The Hood grabbed Gordon by his collar and shoved him to the floor. "When will you learn? You are home now. Get used to it." _

Then had he slammed the door, stalking off. That had only happened twenty minutes ago. Gordon had tried the door, but had found it locked; from the outside he guessed. He slumped back on the blue bed. He'd been beaten badly all because he asked where his brother was. He'd been moved because he'd tried to escape.

Would he never get back home? A tear slid slowly down Gordon's face, and he brushed it away abruptly. Men did not cry, Gordon thought angrily. He swallowed hard as he swallowed back a thought. Did his father know about him… not being biologically related to him?

Oh, God, what if his older brothers knew? They'd have to know, right? Scott couldn't possibly miss something as big as that. Feeling sick to his stomach, Gordon clung to his pillow. He was still trying to process everything that had happened. He doubted his brothers knew; they probably would have told him about it at some point in his life. But his father almost definitely knew. Gordon had to wonder about his place in the Tracy family when his brothers were told about this. He'd already told Alan, who would no doubt tell someone else.

But why did it matter? Gordon exhaled forcefully. Assuming his brothers were rescued – and he had no doubt that his father would take every step to rescue his brothers that he possibly could – they'd know about his heritage soon enough. And while none of his brothers treated Kyrano or Tin-Tin any differently because Kyrano served the family, Gordon had a sinking feeling that's where he would be when he was rescued, too. It wasn't so much that he minded the idea of being a servant, but the idea of being shunned by his family was more than he could stand. A tear slowly slid down Gordon's face, and this time he didn't even bother to stop it.

The door to his room creaked open again, and he quickly glanced up, jumped off the bed, and brushed away his tear. Even if he was shunned by his family, he'd rather be there than with the Hood. He had to be defiant enough and have hope enough so that he could escape.

"I see you're taking the news rather well about your new home," the Hood said as he closed the door. Gordon ducked as the man attempted to ruffle his hair, feeling doubly sick to his stomach. Gordon slid back and slipped onto the bed, not wanting to be any closer to the Hood than he had too.

"It's not my home," Gordon said, his temper flaring. He knew he was going to get beaten for this, but he didn't care. His home was with his father and his brothers, even if he wasn't related to them by DNA. Who had been the one to raise him, after all?

"Oh, but it is," the Hood responded. His eyes flickered to dark. "I've already given Alan Virgil to look after him. You know, I gave Virgil a choice. I told him that you were related to me, and he told me that he knew. I asked him if he'd rather be with you or with Alan. Naturally, he chose Alan."

_He's lying, _Gordon thought as his hands began to shake. Virgil surely would have told him if he'd not been biologically related, right? But… He gulped, trying to take in a breath. The Hood had to be lying.

"I was really hoping you'd be more receptive to me as your father, Gordon," the Hood responded. "Your attitude disappoints me. I knew I would have to free you from Jeff Tracy's attitude, but I didn't know how much work it would be." He sighed, and called for someone else.

"This is my assistant, Mullion," the Hood responded. Gordon closed his eyes and inhaled forcefully; he knew all too well who the man was. "Mullion, I've found one of my sons," he said with a happy smile.

"One of your sons?" Gordon demanded, not missing the subtle play on words.

"Yes," the Hood responded, not answering Gordon's unspoken question. He nodded towards Mullion. "I believe that it is time for him to be branded as one of the family, don't you?"

_Shit_, Gordon thought, _this was not going to be good._

## break ##

Virgil Tracy was exhausted. He and Alan had been through an extremely long day, and it only looked to get worse. They'd been forced to change into the clothes that the other mine workers wore, and their shoes had been stolen from them. One of the guards had promised to give them new shoes, but they'd seen nothing materialize yet.

Entering the door to their new cabin, Virgil was so stunned to see who their roommate was that he didn't even notice Alan slip in behind him. Alan, having been young when he last saw the person, likely would not have recognized them.

"Mom," Virgil Tracy breathed.

## break ##

A/N: Well, what'd you think of the cliffhanger? I felt that Gordon's bit was "too short" last time, so I tried to give him some more time this time. Now I'm going to get yelled at because Alan's and Virgil's scene is too short. Let me know what you think of the chapter. Flames will be served with gram crackers and chocolate, so feel free to leave them if you'd like. Hope this chapter answered your questions about the Thunderbird One, too!


	11. What Comfort?

A/N: Thanks for your awesome reviews. Everyone who reviews this chapter gets a thank-you in the next chapter (name mentioned). Thanks to all those who, for whatever reason, are reading and cannot review. Your support means so much!

## break ##

Virgil Tracy glanced at the figure, shocked. Before he could even move to touch it, the figure completely disappeared. It hadn't been real – it had been a holographic image and had suddenly disappeared. "This is freaky," Virgil whispered, quickly snatching up three of the pictures on the dresser before Alan could even blink. He turned at the sound, shoving the pictures in his pocket. Virgil quickly pressed his finger to his lips before Alan said anything. "I think this is the wrong—"

"Room," the man finished for him. He grabbed Alan's bicep quickly, forcefully knocking Alan into the wall. "Exactly. Move it," he added, moving his knife so that it was next to Alan's throat.

It was all Virgil could do not to drop-kick the man holding Alan. He knew doing so was pointless. For one thing, they were on an island with miles of nowhere in between there and the next land, which made Virgil feel totally and completely hopeless. There was also the thing where the knife was too close to Alan's head.

Virgil helplessly did as the man said, allowing himself to be moved to the next move. The Hood had practically had a shrine of women, including their mother. Why? Their mother had been dead years before International Rescue started. How would the Hood even _know_ their mother?

"Let me see those pictures," Alan said as soon as the man moved away. Virgil raised his eyebrow, but otherwise didn't respond as his youngest brother took the picture. "Man," he whispered, "maybe it is true."

"Maybe what is true?" Virgil asked, lightly grabbing Alan by the arm.

Alan glanced up, as if seeing his brother for the first time. "This picture. Is this Gordon and Mom?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat when he said the word 'Mom' that Virgil didn't miss. Surprised by his brothers' observation – after all, he barely had seen any pictures of their mother – Virgil nodded.

"Maybe what is true?" Virgil hissed, wishing desperately for some background knowledge as to the secret that Alan was hiding.

A tear slipped down Alan's face. "The Hood. When he h-had us together, h-he said that G-GG-Gordon w-w-…" Alan slid the picture into his pocket. "W-w-was his son." The tears didn't stop then.

Stunned, Virgil could only look at Alan like he was an alien or some figure he had never said before. What the _hell_? He was going to beat the Hood into smithereens the next time he saw him. Maybe he'd get lucky and get off a kill shot. "What?" he asked, despite knowing what his brother had said. "What proof did he have of this?"

"D-dna and ot-ther stuff."

Virgil sank down to the bed. How to best handle this? He knew the Hood could easily fake documentation, but it looked like Alan believed what the Hood said. He remembered Gordon being brought home, or so he thought; maybe he was getting him confused with Alan. "What was his story?"

"I d-d…" Alan stuttered, clearly not wanting to tell. It was then when someone else came in, and grabbed Virgil firmly by _his_ bicep.

"Your torturer awaits," the man responded, grabbing Alan by the arm. "Let's go."

"Alan!" Virgil said, knowing what the man said all to well. He wasn't going to let the man torture his brother if he could help it. "No. Leave him _alone_!"

Virgil was sent sprawling to the floor, his chin catching the dirt floor. The Hood hadn't bothered with even wood or cement floors on the island, and had provided only the basic shelter precautions. "Take Alan," the first man told his second buddy. "I have some business to finish with this one," he responded, pointing to Virgil.

"Virgil!" Alan said, trying desperately to save reach brother. Alan was shoved on the floor and dragged out of the room.

"Alan!" Virgil shouted again, but was drowned out by a vicious kick to his rib. He was shoved roughly on the floor, and kicked again.

The door slammed closed, and Virgil was roughly shoved once more. "Don't you dare move, Virgil. Don't you dare move, dammit. Just try and test me."

He hovered over Virgil for a minute, and then stormed away.

Virgli waited until the man was out of sight before shakily lifting himself up. He pushed himself up onto the bed, and then shakily covered himself with the blue blanket. He silently prayed that his brothers – wherever they were – would stay safe, especially Scott, who had been sold into slavery again by the Hood.

The Hood _had_ to be stopped.

## break ##

"Scott?" John asked, looking into his brothers' eyes. He only blinked once, not paying any attention to Jeff. Jeff gave his son a hug, and once more, Scott showed no recognition.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Jeff breathed, taking his eldest by his hands. Scott glanced down, as if noticing his hands for the first time, like they were new. This worried Jeff more than he wanted to admit.

"J… J…" Scott started to say, but then yanked his hands from Jeff and lay back on the white bed when he couldn't get the right answer. John swallowed, glancing at his father. Damn, that wasn't good. That wasn't good at _all_.

"I'm calling Kyrano," Jeff said as he moved outside the door. Kyrano had studied medicine for years, and his knowledge exceeded well above Virgil's. Virgil sought him for council on many occasions. "He might know something about this that we don't."

John nodded. "I'll stay here."

Scott moved up once Jeff was gone, peering into John's eyes. "You," he said, pointing at John.

Guessing blindly at what his brother wanted, John responded, "I'm your brother, John."

Scott nodded and frowned, thinking through his word list to the right one. It took him two minutes to respond. "Many?" he asked.

It pierced John's heart. Scott, who would give his life to protect his brothers, may well have just given his life as he knew it to protect his brothers. "Four," John said, pointing to himself. A tear ran down his face. "Others are missing," he added, softly, worried about how his other brothers were.

How he desperately prayed for a lead… and for a never-ending coffee pot for their father.

With decaf.

## break ##

Gordon had to struggle to breathe. He did not like the sound of what he had just heard. As if knowing that Gordon could well try and dart for the door, the Hood pressed the palm of his hands against Gordon's back. "Mullion, go get that for me, please," he instructed.

Mullion nodded and removed himself from the room.

"I'm not your son!" Gordon shouted, outraged. Even if the Hood was his father biologically, he'd attacked his mother and had _never_ raised him. "I'm Jeff Tracy's son!"

"Unless you want your torture to be ten times worse, boy, you'll shut up and stop saying that," the Hood sneered. He grabbed Gordon by his right arm - his sore one - and shoved him down on the floor. Gordon let out a moan of pain. The Hood placed his knee on the small of Gordon's back, and held Gordon by his injured arm until Mullion returned. Tears pressed against Gordon's eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

"Time to welcome your first born into the family," Mullion responded. He sneered as he looked at the Hood. "Do you want to do this, or shall I?" he said, gesturing towards the marker.

"You," the Hood responded. "If I let him go, he'll be all over the floor, and I want to get this done sometime tonight. He's a slippery one."

Mullion nodded and grabbed hold of Gordon's leg, forcing his foot down on it. He touched the brand to Gordon's leg, and Gordon screamed. Gordon didn't know how much time had passed before it was over, but he was sure that he came really close to passing out. Suddenly, the pressure released, and Mullion nodded toward the Hood and left the room.

"Welcome to the family," the Hood sneered as he kicked Gordon in the stomach. "I want to love you, Gordon," he said as he comfortingly put his hand on Gordon's shoulder. Gordon, still trying to catch his breath from the attack, didn't even have the energy to move himself away. Tears rolled down his face and he couldn't blink them all away. "But you insist on having this relationship with Jeff Tracy, who really doesn't care you exist. I'm your father now, Gordon. Get used to it."

With that, he slammed the door and left the room.

## break ##

Mullion smiled as he and the Hood walked down the hall. "Everything is flowing perfectly," he responded. "I wonder, what made you choose Gordon to be your son and not Scott?"

The Hood rolled his eyes. "I attacked his wife just before Gordon was born, dimwit; not before Scott was born. Don't you think the time gap would have been a little obvious?"

"The twelve months should be obvious enough," Mullion snorted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know you have your plans."

"Gordon is the Tracy who is the most _not_ like the other Tracy boys. It is easy to play on his insecurities and make him believe that he is really not related to the Tracy family." The Hood smirked. "Besides, he could even be related to me, which makes it all the better. Now, Alan… I don't know how you think you're going to make him _your_ child. You think Gordon is uncooperative? You should see Alan on a _good_ day."

"I have my ways," Mullion responded, looking put out. "What, don't you trust me?"

The Hood snorted. "Well, it seemed your plan with Scott worked. He's not able to communicate. We'll plant Eagle in that speech lab to hurt him when he tries to regain his speech and we should be golden. As for Virgil, I want him to be brainwashed for a few days and then released. I think he's our best shot at getting the hands on their technology."

"I thought you'd forgotten about that in the conquest for your son," Mullion replied, looking relieved. "Money and fame awaits us, my friend."

"I think you mean in-famousness," the Hood responded. "I'm going to bed. I want a full report on your plan for Alan tomorrow. We can't only have half a plan on this thing; we need the whole one, or Alan will never listen to it. Not that he will anyway," he added, muttering the last part under his breath.

"Yeah, yeah," Mullion nodded as he left the room.

The Hood smiled. Soon, the Tracy family would be diminished entirely and shredded apart, and the Hood would own everything Jeff Tracy owned that he wanted to own.

It sounded great to the Hood. With this in mind, the Hood opened his room to his door, plunked himself in bed, and went to sleep.

## break ##

So, which of the Hood's plans do you think will work?


	12. Giving Up Might Be The Only Way

A/N: Without further prompt, here is chapter 12 of _96 Hours Before Sold_. For those interested, I have also updated _Rough Landings_. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Alan glared at the man who was holding him firmly by his wrist. He looked familiar, but Alan was absolutely exhausted and couldn't quite place him. "Hi, Alan. Have you been enjoying your stay?" he asked. Alan had been dropped down to the floor after he entered the room.<p>

Not bothering to respond, knowing whatever he said would be twisted and would only lead him to more trouble, Alan settled for glaring at the man instead.

"I asked you a question," the man sneered. He kicked Alan's leg.

"It's been great, but I'm ready to go home now, if you don't mind," Alan responded. He had decided to be defiant as long as Virgil wouldn't get hurt from it. Alan had never been one to just roll over and cooperate with his enemies. Bullies hadn't picked on Alan often for that exact reason.

"Oh, you're going home now," the first man said. He chuckled at Alan's glance of surprise. "Didn't anyone tell you, Alan? Your new home will be with me. I'm legally adopting you."

"I'm too old to be legally adopted!" Alan said, in shock at the man's plan. He didn't really want to know what the man's sick plan was, but it looked like he was about to find out anyway.

"You are young enough now," the man said. "Come on, Alan, no screaming protests because you recognized me? I'm shocked," he responded.

It was then when Alan recognized the man's mocking voice. "Mullion," he responded, his mouth dropping open. "You're sick. Your plan will never work," he added quickly, hoping to stop the disillusioned man from even attempting his plan.

"Yes, it will, and you'll shut up and listen." Mullion backhanded Alan, hard, before the boy could speak again. "The first rule? Don't speak, I don't like the sound of your voice. The second rule? You're going to do everything I ask you to, or I'll slit Gordon's throat." He wouldn't, of course, the Hood would have his ass on a platter, but Alan didn't know that. And he could certainly torment Gordon – he doubted the Hood would mind that.

Alan's mouth dropped open. He wanted to speak – to scream, actually, and call Mullion an insane, well, words that were better not mentioned, but decided against it. He swallowed hard and settled for glaring at Mullion. He might do what Mullion said, but if Mullion thought Alan was actually going to cooperate with him, he had another think coming.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Mullion responded. He agreed with the Hood. The way to make the brothers obey them was by tormenting their brothers. Yeah, the sentence didn't make much sense, but it worked.

_I will not kick him in his teeth, _Alan thought as he was ordered to stand. He was handcuffed by Mullion, who grabbed him forcefully by his arm and led him to the plane.

Alan was well aware of the gun at his back. He didn't intend to fight back – yet. There was no point in fighting back on island that was surrounded by an ocean. He and Virgil had been the only two people in the mines, much to Alan's surprise, and he'd thought that the whole island had been a set up in the beginning.

Mullion took the moment that they entered the plane to roughly shove Alan down on the floor. Alan's right cheek caught the floor, hard, and he winced as his arm was roughly twisted as Mullion shoved him against the wall. "Just so you don't ask," Mullion responded, "The Hood has other plans for Virgil. I'm going to free your hands once I close the door, since you'll be locked in this section of the plane," he said. Alan watched him walk away and close the door. Seconds later, he was back.

_Oh, God, Virgil_! Alan thought. It was only at that moment that he realized that Virgil would be staying there. And that he couldn't ask about it, or Gordon would be punished. The thought made him nauseas. What was he going to do? How was he going to figure out what to do?

"If you say one word about Virgil, trust me, you won't be helping him," Mullion warned. "In fact, I'll kick your behind if you say anything. The information in the packet is about your adoption. I want you to have read everything before we get to our new location, and before you ask, no, I'm not going to tell you where you're going. I will tell you this – I don't care how old you think you are, you're sixteen years old."

With that, Mullion freed Alan's hands, closed the door to the small area that Alan hadn't even noticed was there, and left him alone.

Sixteen years old? Alan thought as he tore open the brown envelope that held the contents that Mullion wanted him to read. Who did Mullion think he was kidding? Nobody would buy that story, least of all Alan. Legally adopted? That was about as good as the Hood being Gordon's biological father.

Alan refused to believe that it was true, even for a minute. He knew that it could be true, but until his father either confirmed or denied it for him, he wasn't going to listen to the little, nagging, voice in his head. He felt so bad for Gordon. He knew that if the Hood thought Gordon was related to him, he'd pull out all the stops and try and punish Gordon.

The contents of the envelope all looked so official, Alan had a hard time reminding himself that Mullion couldn't have possibly legalized an adoption for Alan. He was nineteen – soon to be twenty. It looked like he would be spending his twentieth birthday in captivity, though. Alan shrugged that thought off. There was no use dwelling on it.

He pulled out his identification and frowned. According to the ID, he was John Cooper, sixteen years old.

_I don't want to be sixteen years old again_, Alan thought bitterly, knowing that he wouldn't have a choice if Mullion kept threatening Gordon the way he did. He couldn't risk his brother.

Alan swallowed hard as the plane took off and he was forced to leave his older brother behind. Unbidden, a quote came to mind: _spare the life of one brother to harm the life of another._

It didn't make him feel any better about his current situation.

* * *

><p>Virgil hated not fighting back. Actually, Virgil hated not moving. Virgil Tracy was a man of action. Actually, all of the Tracy men were, especially his father. Virgil knew his father had to be affected by this in some way, shape or form. Virgil had decided that he would pretend to cooperate and take the path of least resistance, making them think that he was weaker than he really was. This would give him an advantage when he tried to escape… Or so he hoped. He should have fought back harder for Alan, though, and he blamed himself for that.<p>

What Virgil didn't know was that Mullion, who had been serving him his meals, had been putting in a drug that made Virgil less likely to fight back. The drug, coupled with his exhausting past week and a half, made Virgil extremely tired. And Virgil would find out about the drug soon.

The door to the room opened, and Virgil glanced up, expecting to see Alan. He didn't. He stared at the new man, trying to remember where, or if, he'd seen the man before. The answer was undoubtedly no, he hadn't. Who was he?

"Stand up," the man said. When Virgil hesitated, he was grabbed roughly by the arm, flung off the bed and onto the floor, and shoved against the door. "I told you to do something, and I expect you to listen to it when I say it – the first time," he added harshly.

"Who are you?" Virgil asked as he felt his hands being cuffed. "Where's Alan?" he added, noticing his brother was still not back yet.

"I didn't say you could talk." The man shoved Virgil to the floor and kicked him. Virgil groaned, letting himself lie there. "Alan was given out for adoption," the man responded. "Stay there, and don't move."

Virgil closed his eyes. Alan was given out for adoption? He was nineteen years old, for heaven's sake! He didn't want to know what the true story behind that situation was, and yet, he desperately needed to know. He was still deciding whether or not he should fight back when someone else came in the room in addition to his first captor.

Big Shoes, the name Virgil settled on for his first captor, held out two blue pills. "Open up," he instructed. Virgil had settled for pulling himself slightly up, waiting to see if he could learn more information about his brothers. Virgil hesitated, knowing how dangerous that taking unknown medication could be, but was roughly shoved onto the floor. Big Shoes placed his brown boot on Virgil's arm, pinning his arms down while he shoved the pills into Virgil's mouth. Virgil had no choice but to swallow.

"Good," the man responded. "He's yours, Steve," he said to the second man. Virgil tried to hear more, but he couldn't hear anything. The next thing he knew was the dark, enveloping blanket of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>The new home they were in was nice enough, Gordon supposed, it just wasn't his home, and it never would be. He had been moved yet a third time. Gordon had the distinct feeling the Hood was trying to move him around often enough so that he didn't figure out where his current location was.<p>

He knew he had been transported yesterday. The Hood had decided to make a daring move and transport him using Tracy Airport because "it got him where he needed to go." They'd taken one of the Hood's private jets. Gordon knew that the Hood had somehow gotten a lot of money, but did not know how. He seemed to have enough money for everything he needed – and more.

Very interesting for an escaped fugitive.

The best way to describe how Gordon had been secured for the flight would have been like a Christmas turkey. He couldn't talk, he couldn't move, it was hard to breathe. The Hood had thrown some type of drop cloth overtop of Gordon so that he wouldn't be visible to any outsiders.

What really bothered Gordon was the conversation that the Hood had had with a policeman while waiting for takeoff.

_Flashback_

"_Have you seen these boys?" the policeman asked. Gordon, who was buried under his blanket, held his breath. The policeman had already come onto the jet and identified himself as such, and Gordon hoped he'd find him. He would have cried out, but he was not able to because of the gag stuck in his mouth. Moving was impossible because of the handcuffs that held his hands and the rope that securely tied his feet. His hands were under his back, and Gordon's face touched the white sheet. _

"_They do look familiar, but I don't think I've seen them," the Hood responded. "Who are they?" _

_The policeman exhaled. "They're Jeff Tracy's boys," he explained. "Alan and Virgil Tracy."_

"_That explains it. I heard about them missing on the news. Wasn't there another boy missing?"_

"_Yes, Gordon Tracy and Scott Tracy were both abducted as well. Scott Tracy was found, and the search for Gordon has been stopped."_

"_Why was the search for Gordon stopped?" The Hood seemed surprised at this, and Gordon's blood boiled. He wanted to do anything to let the police officer know he was here—yet he couldn't. He had tried to kick, and found himself unable to. There had been something heavy placed on top of his lungs._

"_He was returned to his biological father," the policeman said. There was a second of silence, and then the policeman said, "Thanks for your time. I have to go."_

End flashback

Gordon had feltsick to his stomach after hearing that. The search or him had been called off? He had shamelessly cried then, not loudly, just quietly.

Now, in his new room, Gordon reflected. The Hood must be his father, if his _own _father didn't love him enough to search for him. It wasn't fair! He hadn't asked to have been born differently from all his brothers. Why was his father searching for them, and not him? What did he do to deserve his father's sudden rejection?

Sinking onto his bed, Gordon thought through his options. If his own father had rejected him, then why should he bother to escape? He wanted desperately to be free and to see his family again. No, it was more than a want, it was a need. But how could he do that if his father rejected him?

Gordon lay on his bed, trying to think of any option that he had in his situation that was positive. He finally decided to give up for the night. Things _had _to look better in the morning…

… didn't they? …

Gordon Tracy cried himself to sleep.

* * *

><p>The Hood smiled. Everything was going as planned. Mullion had devised a plan to control Alan for the time being, so that the Hood could extract his revenge on him in due time. Gordon had believed the police officer ruse – really, how stupid was the kid? Jeff Tracy would never have called off the search for one of his sons. Virgil was being sold to another buyer. What the Hood didn't know was that the buyer was an undercover cop. He was just glad to have another one of the older Tracy brats gone.<p>

"Things are going according to plan?" he asked Mullion over his cell phone. It was Mullion, ready to tell him that he had told Alan about his new life.

"Everything's going according to plan," Mullion confirmed, and then hung up.

Life was going great.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry that there is no John, Scott or Jeff – I promise there will be some next chapter. So, tell me what you think – review!

_Challenge_: Will Gordon still try and escape, even though he believes Jeff Tracy called off his search?


	13. Alan's Bait

It was around two o'clock the next afternoon when John got to take Scott to his first speech therapy session. His brother would need to stay in the hospital for about two weeks to recover, even though John personally didn't think his brothers' injuries looked _that_ bad. Still, he wasn't about to protest. He had a feeling his father wanted his brother somewhere where he would be safe.

So did John. Scott was talking a little better now; he could say things two words at a time instead of just one. The doctor suspected that in addition to his medical condition, his vocal chords had also been damaged, but he couldn't know that, of course. _(What medical training do you have, anyway?) _was what John had wanted to shout at the man.

Scott looked like he'd been through war, even though he'd been missing the shortest time of all of his brothers. John softly sighed as they arrived at the speech therapy lab. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked, half hoping his brother would say yes, half hoping his brother would say no.

Turning around to look at his brother, Scott surveyed John. "Go," he said softly. He smiled, trying not to make that sound like a threat. "Not mad," he clarified, "Myself."

John smiled. He understood. His brother was a man of action; it was hard for him to have his speech impacted. He was too grateful that one of his other brothers was alive to care.

"Okay," he said, opening the door and seeing the smiling nod from the speech therapist. "I'll be back in about an hour," he responded, even though he planned on checking on his brother full well before that.

It was then when Scott's speech instructor stepped towards Scott. Scott didn't know why, but he felt a wave of fear pass through him. He _knew_ he could talk, but the Hood had said he'd planted spies and would kill his father and brother if Scott said anything about what happened.

Scott didn't know what to do.

But then... "Pay attention!" his speech therapist said, surprising Scott by slapping him on the face. "Listen, Kid, you don't get anywhere if you don't pay attention. Got it?"

Scott shifted his eyes to his instructor's face, and had to fight to keep himself from showing more fear.

His speech teacher, just as the Hood had said, was a plant by the Hood himself. Scott had to fight tears from coming down his face.

_Would his family never be free of the Hood? _

* * *

><p>Kyrano had insisted that Jeff stay on the island long enough to eat something healthy and homemade, and rest a bit. He had gone down to his house to talk to Tin-Tin about Jeff's question. Tin-Tin had greater powers than Kyrano, and she might be able to explain it.<p>

Kyrano was not surprised to see Fermat sitting with his daughter. He smiled. Tin-Tin cared about Alan - whether they loved each other or not, he was not sure he wanted to know yet - but he was glad to see her being cared for by someone else in Alan's absence. "Mr. Tracy has found Scott," he said, offering the good news that he was sure would bring a breath of fresh relief.

He was correct. Tin-Tin looked emotionally relieved, and Fermat nodded. "W-what about the o-t-t - them?" he added.

"Not yet," Kyrano responded, his face still downcast at the news. It had been over two weeks since Alan, Gordon, and Virgil had gone missing. Alan's birthday had come and gone with no news of whether he was alive or dead. "Tin-Tin, I need to talk to you," he responded.

Sensing the tension, Fermat pulled himself up. "I'll leave," he offered.

"No, you may as well stay here," Kyrano said, surprising Fermat. "Mr. Tracy thinks that the Hood may be using his powers to control Scott's speech. We need to figure out whether or not he is right."

* * *

><p>Gordon glanced at the newcomers down the driveway. He had been given a room with a window, not that it did him any good. He'd already tried to escape out of it.<p>

It had a loud, piercing, alarm that had alerted the Hood - and probably several of their neighbors - to his escape. To his surprise, he hadn't been beaten, he'd just been ignored. The door had been locked as the Hood had left the room after turning off the alarm.

Gordon had decided that he didn't believe the Hood about there not being any searching going on for him. The police officer was probably full of baloney. At least, he hoped. Even if the police officer was telling the truth, he needed to know.

_Besides,_ Gordon thought ruefully, _the Hood may think that he knew Jeff Tracy, but he did not really know Jeff Tracy._

And he didn't know Gordon's spirit, either.

* * *

><p>Alan glared at Mullion. He really didn't care about pretenses. He didn't care about anything at the moment, really.<p>

He just wanted to go home.

Except, as Mullion had so kindly informed him, he was home.

Bull crap. This would not, nor would it ever be, Alan's home. And with good reason.

"This will be your room. You will be sharing it with the Hood's son. You will address both of us as Sir at home; in public, you will call me Father and you will call address the Hood as Uncle. Are we clear?"

"Uncle what?"

"Just Uncle," Mullion responded, not giving the Hood's name away. He opened the door, and then grabbed Alan by the arm and flung him onto the ground. "I'll see you in a few days."

"No, you won't," Alan said, struggling to get to his feet. "I'll be gone by then."

A boot shoved him back down to the floor, and Alan grimaced. He was sure that he had injured his already bruised ribs. He heard the door slammed behind him. Trying the handle, he sighed. Of course it would be locked.

But there was hope. They'd said they were going out in public. That meant hope. He glanced up to the bed; there was Gordon, sitting there.

"Gordon!" he said embracing his brother.

"Alan!" Gordon said, relieved to see that at least one of his brothers didn't hate him. "Thank God, you're okay," he breathed.

"Well, okay is an operative term," Alan said shakily. He glanced at his brother. In the three days they'd been separated, Alan had been beaten badly, and he'd nearly had his arm broken. He saw that his brother had at least fared a little better. His arm was still in a sling, though, and his burn arms had turned a dark color. _Not good_. "What about you?"

"Like you said, okay is an operative term," Gordon said with a shrug. "I'm doing a little better," he responded. He sighed, debating inwardly whether to tell his brother what he'd heard. "Alan, the Hood said that Dad gave up searching for me. He said the Hood found me and he was going to give me to him."

"Bullshit," Alan said, surprising Gordon by his sudden use of language. "Come on, Gordon, seriously! Dad would never give up searching for you. You know that."

"I guess," Gordon said.

"You know," Alan said, surprising Gordon with his confidence. "Gordon, we've got to get out of here."

"You think I don't know that."

"Shh," Alan said. He glanced around the room, then back at his brother. "I have an idea."

"Yeah?" Gordon said, suddenly all ears. "What's your great idea?"

Alan winced. "It involves me being bait," he responded.

That was the only thing he didn't like about the plan.

* * *

><p>Virgil moaned in pain as he awoke from his previously drugged state. He had been ecstatic; he had <em>thought<em> the man who had bought him was a cop. Now he knew he was wrong.

Desperately wrong.

He exhaled forcefully, wincing as he shifted his hands. The man was determined to brainwash him, then plant him to get his hands on the latest IR technology. It seemed to be a continuation of what the Hood was doing.

Despite himself, Virgil couldn't help but think_, maybe I should just give into the brainwashing. _

_Then maybe I could go home._

He didn't know that this was just the first part of the brainwashing, and that if everything went to the crooked cop's plan, it would be a long, long time before he escaped.

* * *

><p>Challenge: Next chapter, one of the boys will break free from the Hood's hold. Which one will it be? Read and review!<p> 


	14. Freed, Almost

Gordon took a steadying breath as he stepped off the bed. He couldn't believe that he and Alan had been held hostage four weeks already. Four weeks! That was an entire month. It had been four weeks since the rescue that had forever changed their lives as they'd known it; three and a half weeks since they'd been sold into slavery like mere purchases of merchandise.

He felt hurt; angry that the Hood had destroyed their lives. What did he gain from it? Was he a sadist, someone who just enjoyed watching people be tortured, stripped away from their families? When they'd first been captured, Gordon had thought the people really were going to sell them off. In a way, they had, although the entire plan seemed to have been orchestrated by the Hood in an attempt to capture them.

It had been four days since his and Alan's conversation, and Gordon was doing his best to play up to Alan's plan. It was the only true hope they had of escape right now.

_Flashback_

"_It involves me being bait." _

_Gordon looked at his younger brother like he was nuts. Firstly, Scott would kill him if he escaped without bringing Alan with him. Heaven forbid whoever hurt Alan, because Scott would rip them to shreds. Secondly, he wasn't about to leave his younger brother behind. "Bait?" he said, his voice a bit shaky. "Come on, Alan. You know I can't do that. Scott would kill me if I got you hurt!" _

"_And if one of us doesn't get out of here, we're both going to get hurt!" Alan retorted. He pointed to Gordon's cast. The Hood had taken Gordon to one of his friends, who apparently had some doctor study/private practice. (Probably for the rich who beat up on their kids, Gordon had thought after leaving the office). They'd said that Gordon's arm was broken and had put it in a cast. The cast seemed to be heavier than what most stuff was made of, although Gordon couldn't figure out why. He supposed he should just be glad his arm wouldn't heal incorrectly now. _

"_So what's your plan?" Gordon asked, knowing his younger brother was right. Part of him feared going home without Alan. What if he was rescued and Alan wasn't? What would happen then? He swallowed hard, trying not to think about the reaction he was going to get from his father, now that he knew he was the Hood's son. _

"_We're both going to lay low for a few days," Alan said. He rubbed his side, and Gordon knew he had to be smarting from where the Hood had shoved him into a wall earlier. "You're not going to try anything – unless we get a really good opportunity. Pretend like you're totally under the Hood's control. Do whatever he asks." _

"_I'm assuming there's a point to that." _

"_Getting there. You know, sometimes I can't decide who's more impatient –you or Scott," Alan teased._

"_I think we've said you're the most impatient." _

"_Nah, nah, it's definitely Scott. If he wasn't Commander In Chief of International Rescue, Id' say he had ADHD or some other attention span disorder. Look, Gordon, I know why you're worried about going without me. It's not so much the leaving me behind, it's facing Dad without me, isn't it?" Despite being the youngest, Alan still seemed to have an uncanny ability to read his brothers very well. It was partly how he'd learned to survive being the youngest. _

"_Yeah," Gordon said. He exhaled forcefully, then paused, taking a deep breath. "What if Dad doesn't want me anymore, like, legit? What if I really AM the Hood's son? What if… This should have been my life? What if Dad makes me be a servant, like Tin-Tin's family?" _

"_I'm guessing that's not what you want as your chosen career path?" Alan said, seemingly taken aback by Gordon's statement. "Gordon, listen to me. Haven't you ever heard the phrase about letting tomorrow worry about itself, or whatever? We'll deal with that situation at home IF it happens, but I don't think it will. I think you're underestimating how much Dad cares about you."_

"_I hope you're right." Gordon swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage his brother had._

"_Hey, at least you're not suddenly sixteen again," Alan teased, blushing from the conversation he'd had with Mullion in the hallway. "Anyway, look. Pretend like you don't really care about getting out of here. I'll rebel, just like I always do. They wouldn't believe me if I tried to pretend. When I get an opportunity after about three to four days, I'm going to make a break for it. Pretend to be really docile until AFTER they chase after me. Then you take off." _

There were so many things that could go wrong with the plan, Gordon thought, taking another deep breath, but it was a plan_, _and by God,he and his brother both needed some hope right , he wouldn't have minded helping more like Tin-Tin and her family did; that thought didn't bother him. The thought that bothered him was that of being shunned by his father and four brothers because of a parental heritage that had been out of his control.

Slipping down the stairs, Gordon sighed as he heard Alan's voice rise. He wasn't sure if he should be glad that Alan was drawing all the attention to himself or not. He could only stand to see Alan be smacked so many times before he wanted to throw a punch himself. He would have fought a lot more, had it not been for Alan's plan.

"I'm not taking the medicine!" Alan said. Gordon rolled his eyes; he couldn't personally blame his brother for that one. Mullion had decided Alan's wild streak needed to be controlled and that medication was the answer. Gordon wasn't quite sure what Alan was on; he just knew his brother hated taking it.

He didn't blame him.

"Yes, you are," Mullion responded, undisturbed by Alan's outcries. "If you don't, then you won't get to eat… Again. How many days are you going to pull this battle?"

Gordon resisted the urge to smack Mullion once more. It would do his brother no good, and would only get him in trouble. He kept his eyes downcast on the floor, like he'd been doing the other days, trying to project the image that he'd given up hope. He had to smile inwardly, though. Mullion and the Hood thought that by bringing his younger brother here, he'd be more likely to listen, and would make him more compliant because he wouldn't want his brother to get hurt.

While Gordon didn't want his brother to get hurt, Alan's presence had the opposite effect of what Mullion and the Hood hoped. He winced, raising his eyes as his younger brother was slapped. _A month ago, he would have yelled at Mullion to leave his brother alone. He would have drawn Mullion's attention onto him._

Now, he was being "docile." God, he hoped their plan would work soon; he hated pretending like he didn't care about his brother.

"Fine, I'll take it," Alan grumbled, holding out his hand for the pills. "How'd you get a prescription in my name, anyway?" he asked, pointing to the bottle. "It's not like I have ADHD and need the pills."

Mullion didn't answer Alan's question, waiting instead until Alan took the glass of water on the stove, and drowned it, and the pills, in his mouth. "Open," he said, motioning towards Alan's mouth. Finding one of the pills still inside it, he sighed. "Aren't you ever going to learn? Listen, take the pill, or I'll beat up Gordon. You don't want that, do you?"

Sighing disgustedly, Alan made to swallow the pill – and then flung it at Mullion's face. Mullion blinked, twice, unable to believe Alan's disobedience. With a pause from Mullion, Alan took off running, and Gordon knew that the time had come.

Grabbing Mullion's cell phone that he'd stupidly left lying on the table, Gordon took off running, flying out the back door he knew was there. He was amazed that he still had energy, and quickly found himself able to climb the fence. From his viewpoint at the top of the chain-linked fence, he could clearly see Alan taking off. He had to smile. Alan's plan seemed to have worked, for now anyway.

He could only hope and pray that his younger brother was able to escape as well, and didn't get hurt or recaptured.

Taking a deep breath, Gordon flipped open the phone, madly pressing his father's phone number. He could only pray that his father would answer, and more importantly, that his father would care enough to rescue him.

* * *

><p>Scott glared at his speech therapist. For four days, he'd undergone abuse as he'd tried to work on "regaining his speech." Scott could speak perfectly fine, he knew that. He knew his communication skills were just as fine as they'd always been. He was dying to tell his father what he knew about the rescue, but he couldn't. He also wanted to get out of the hospital; he was worried that his care was being compromised, but he didn't know that. Right now he simply suspected the one speech therapist of being in cahoots with the Hood, and one other assistant. Scott raised his eyes, hoping that he'd have a different speech therapist today. He didn't.<p>

He didn't know why he hoped. He was beginning to think that he and his family would never be free of the Hood. He could only pray that he was wrong.

* * *

><p>John stood outside the two-way window. He liked it because you couldn't see out while you were in the room, but you <em>could <em>see in. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to look at his watch. Scott's therapy class would last an hour, and he wanted to be there the whole time. He was certain that Scott's therapist was not on the up and up. John had tried following Scott to therapy before, but Scott didn't want anyone following him. John had settled on a second option: watching from the two-way window. He was extremely grateful Fermat, Tin-Tin, and Kyrano were flying down today.

Although John couldn't hear the words that were being said to his older brother, he could see just fine. He watched Scott jiggle his leg, probably from boredom. John took a sip of coffee – and nearly spit it out as he watched his brother get backhanded across his cheeks. He wanted to hurry in, but didn't – yet. He wanted to see if it would go further, escalate within the next minute to where he could get a security guard or something.

Scott and his therapist were the only ones in the room, and few people passed down the hall, giving the thug – whoever was pretending to be the therapist – ample opportunity to hurt Scott. John found his teeth clenching. He watched as the therapist backhanded Scott a second time. Scott recoiled, but didn't fight back. John knew why; he was no doubt being threatened with his brother's safety. Enough was enough, though. He quickly dialed the hospital security, letting them know what had happened before slipping into the room.

John closed the door to the room, coughing loudly to announce his presence. Scott looked relieved; the therapist looked pissed. "You can't interrupt our session," the therapist said. "Who are you?"

"I'm his brother," John said. The therapist looked angry, now, but John continued anyway. "You picked on the wrong family, jackass."

* * *

><p>Virgil closed his eyes, trying hard not to pass out. He felt like his body was on fire, and he felt like screaming. He'd been thrown down a flight of stairs all because he'd dared to tell the man who was holding him captive that he'd never betray his father.<p>

"You're going to listen to me by the time we're done," the man said. Virgil forced his eyes open, trying to look at the man again, although he wasn't sure why. "You _will _get me the information that I want."

"N…not… on your life," Virgil stuttered, trying to push himself back up to a seating position. He groaned, closing his eyes as he lay down on the grass once more. He was just grateful he wasn't hurting more from that fall down the fire escape.

"Yes, you will," the man sneered. He was still dressed in his cop uniform, and gave Virgil a vicious kick. "You _will_ listen to me…"

"Hey!" A voice was suddenly heard. Virgil tensed, not sure if this new voice was friend or foe. "Let him go! Put your hands up, Steve, you're under arrest!"

Virgil Tracy closed his eyes at that, letting unconsciousness wash over him, until it swept him completely away.

* * *

><p>Challenge: So who will be totally free of the Hood by the next chapter?<p> 


	15. As Free As Death

Alan groaned as he awoke, seeing Mullion loom over him. He moved his head, and the world started to swarm. "What happened?" he asked, groggily pulling himself to his seat. He blinked twice as he realized there was a large, white plaster cast on his leg.

"You tried to run away." Mullion stated the expression casually, as if he was talking about a movie or a television show. Alan swallowed at his unusually calm tone of voice. "You were hurt when you tripped over a log. I took you to the doctor, who patched up your leg, and I moved you to a new location."

_What about Gordon_? Alan wanted to ask. His memory for the last twenty-four hours was extremely sketchy, and Alan guessed he'd been drugged for most of it.

"Your brother and the Hood have moved to another location." What Mullion wasn't mentioning to Alan was that Gordon had been able to escape and that the Hood was dead. There was no need to give him hope now. "I want you to know," he said, lying through his teeth, "That Gordon will be punished for your crime. I want you to think about that tonight."

"But…" Alan tried to move and winced. It looked like his leg really was broken, much to his disbelief. "When will I get to see Gordon again?"

"You won't," Mullion replied. He moved to the dresser, where he'd set out his syringe. "We'll be moving to our new place tonight, and I'm afraid you'll need to be asleep for that to happen."

"But…" Alan said as he looked nervously at the syringe, swallowing hard. Maybe if he was conscious during transport he could get away, despite his cast. "I don't…"

"Sorry." It was clear from his voice that Mullion wasn't really sorry, and with that, he injected the rest of the contents in the syringe in Alan.

Mullion sighed. He really wished he hadn't had to kill the Hood, but it was for the best. Alan was finally his, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>John looked murderous, and Scott winced, wondering what he was going to do. He personally didn't care what happened to the idiot who had been slapping him for his "mistakes" the last few days; he cared about what happened to Alan and Gordon and Virgil.<p>

"I suggest you leave." The man stood up and revealed his gun, which was tucked tightly in his holster. "I'll return Scott after his session is up."

-transition-

_Yeah, right_, John thought as he glared at the man. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen. "Right," he said with an obvious sneer in his voice. "Scott and I will be going, if you don't mind."

"Actually, I do mind." The man's hand was clearly on his gun and the threat was real. Scott stood up.

"Leave him alone," Scott said, surprising both the therapist and John by speaking up. "If you want to mess with anyone, mess with me."

"Scott…" John said, feeling nervous now. The last thing he wanted to do was have his brother play hero.

The man smirked, and slowly drew his gun out of his pocket. John chose that moment to deck him in the face before he could get his goal accomplished. "Scott, grab his legs!" he shouted, hoping his brother could hear and respond accurately to his command. He wretched the man's hand behind his back.

"Belt," Scott said as he maneuvered up towards the man's belt, yanking it off. He handed it to John, who tied the man's hands together.

It was then when the security guard walked in looking rather anxious. "Hey, what's going on?" he said.

"He's been hitting my brother," John said, nodding towards Scott. "I want him arrested, now, or I'll bring a lot higher security on your ass."

"Okay, Mr. Tracy. If you get off the doctor, I'll go and find out what I need too."

* * *

><p>Scott nervously paced down the hall as John told his statement. He felt sick to his stomach, worrying about Virgil, Gordon and Alan. Sure, he may have been free from the Hood, but they weren't. He was grateful to his brother that he'd be done suffering the abuse, but he couldn't help but worry about them.<p>

_God, Mom, whoever's up there, please watch out over Gordon, Alan and Virgil… Please._

It was then when Jeff Tracy came up to Scott, embracing his eldest son in a hug. "We're getting out of here," he said. "I've asked for early dismissal from the hospital and it's been granted…" with that, he opened his phone again. "Jeff Tracy speaking."

Scott swallowed nervously.

The phone shut. "John, you can finish giving your statement to the officer later. Virgil and Gordon have just been found."

That statement made both John and Scott turn towards their father, and their voices united in a unanimous, "What?"

* * *

><p>The police officer had arrested the other man, who had been charged with several crimes, including assault and impersonating an officer. He'd taken Virgil to the hospital and gotten his injuries patched up, and then had worked on finding his father's contact information. He'd found it and was about to call the father after Virgil had passed out from sheer exhaustion.<p>

"What's up, Michael?" he asked.

"We have another Tracy," Michael said. Michael was his commanding partner and would have been going on call that night with him had he not taken overtime that day when he'd found a twenty-year-old unconscious in a back alley. "Identified as Gordon Tracy, 25."

"Then I'll just call their father at once," the man said.

"Okay, Ben. But be careful – these kids are the ones who have been missing for quite awhile."

"I'll be sensitive," Ben grumbled as he flipped open his cell phone.

* * *

><p>Gordon Tracy slowly regained consciousness and winced as everything came into view. He felt his throbbing headache and wondered if the scene with the police officer had been a fraction of reality.<p>

Looking around the hospital, and not seeing the Hood, he could tell it hadn't been. Oh, God. He had (hopefully) been rescued. Gordon breathed a sigh of relief, thanking God for his few minutes of freedom. Then a new thought hit him: _what would his father do now? _Would his father still love him? Or would he hate him because Alan hadn't been found yet?

The thoughts that circled in his head danced around, making him unable to focus. He took in a deep breath and blinked twice as someone entered the room. Oh, God, it wasn't the Hood.

"John?" he whispered.

"Oh, Gordon," he said, letting out a breath. "I thought we'd lost you." He embraced his younger brother in a hug, glad to see him again, and knowing he'd never want to let go.

* * *

><p>Alan groaned as he struggled to sit up. Once again, he was in an entirely new place. He wasn't sure why he was surprised, that was what Mullion had told him, after all. Mildly, he wondered how long he'd been unconscious, but shrugged that off. There were better things to worry about.<p>

Like finding his brother.

He took a deep breath as he finally pulled himself up, and then winced as he moved his leg. _Dammit, Mullion_! A burst of temper flared as he tried to move. It was then when Mullion's words hit him about Gordon getting punished for his mistake. If Mullion had hurt his leg, what would he do to Gordon? He swallowed nervously as he scooted back on the bed.

Everything took twice the normal effort, and finally, he collapsed against the wall. The door opened, and Mullion smiled. "Welcome to your personal version of hell," he said.

"I'm actually good, thanks," Alan said, suddenly shivering. Mullion smirked as he looked at the expression on his face.

"I'm sure you think you are." Mullion gave him a second to mull that over, then said, "Your brother is dead."

"W-what?" Alan gasped, not sure he heard Mullion right. He felt the _splash _hit his stomach and knew he was going to throw up.

"Gordon is dead," Mullion said. He didn't bother clarifying what he meant, knowing exactly how Alan would take it. "It's your fault, too. I didn't want to punish him, I was going to keep him with you, but you gave me no choice. Tomorrow, you'll start your new life as my son. I expect you to behave accordingly."

"Go to hell," Alan spat, trying to keep a brave face as the full implication of what Mullion was saying hit him. _Gordon was dead. Gordon was dead, and it was all his fault. Oh, God, Gordon was dead..._

"Why?" Mullion smiled, knowing the smile would irk Alan even more. "You're already there. Oh, and for that, no dinner tonight." With that, he slammed the door to Alan's room.

Tears began to roll down Alan Tracy's face. _Oh, God_.

Things would never go back to normal now.

* * *

><p>Challenge: So are our Tracy brothers who are rescued <span>really<span> rescued?

Thanks to all for their reviews, I'm going to reply to them now.


	16. A Little More Information

Alan swallowed hard as he covered his head. He had been alone with Mullion for four days now, trying to adjust slowly to the fact that Gordon was dead and that it had been his fault. He had been trying to help his brother be reassured that his father wouldn't be mad if Gordon came home without Alan, and now he knew exactly how his brother felt.

_How would his father react if he came home without Gordon_?

There was absolutely nothing that Alan could do about it, of course. The intellectual part of him realized that. But the emotional part of him kept insisting that Gordon's death was his fault in some way, shape, or form. _He_ was supposed to be the one hurt in the plan. And now, Gordon was killed.

He hated Mullion.

The past four days had been nothing short of hell on earth. Mullion had moved him three different times, and Alan had lost count of how many of those times were in the United States. Each time, Alan had been drugged unconscious so there was no chance of escaping.

_Not that there would be, anyway, with this giant cast on his leg, _he thought with a sigh.

_Flashback_

"_I hate you!" Alan screamed, throwing his fork at Mullion. "You're absolutely NUTS if you think I'm going to comply with you. How the HELL do you get satisfaction out of this?" he demanded angrily. _

_Mullion picked up Alan's fork for him and put it back on the table, along with Alan's breakfast "What satisfaction do I get out of this? Well, I get to best Jeff Tracy. I get to put the bullet in the man who's been my boss for so many years and I get to kill your brother. And I get to control you." _

_Control me, yeah, right, Alan had thought. Like he'd let Mullion do that. He eyed the plate. If he wasn't so hungry from skipping all of his meals yesterday, he would have thrown the plate at Mullion, but he'd already learned that didn't bring about the result that he wanted and would only starve him from his needed nourishment._

_He'd never let Mullion control him, no matter what the cost to himself._

End flashback

Now Alan was regretting his previous statement from yesterday. His entire body hurt: his face, his back, his arms, his legs. Every single inch hurt, from his pinky to his toes. Moving around on the bed a little, Alan groaned. There was an imprint of the belt buckle on his arm from where Mullion had smacked him.

Alan couldn't resist touching the scar, remembering that particular incident. Mullion had been angry because Alan hadn't used the crutches the way Mullion had wanted too, and had shoved him to the floor. Mullion had slammed the belt buckle on his back so many times Alan had lost count. The only good that had resulted in that was that Mullion had removed his white cast and put him in a leg brace instead.

Mullion's medical knowledge (or lack thereof) thoroughly freaked Alan out.

Alan rolled over on the bed, closing his eyes. He felt like absolute crap.

All he wanted was to go home.

He'd do anything to get home again. Pulling the covers over his body, Alan finally admitted to himself his worst fear: the fear that he never would get to go home again.

_Please, God, _Alan said, closing his eyes, _send someone to find me._

* * *

><p>Gordon breathed a relieved sigh as he sat on the chair in the upper ten rooms of the New York building in Tracy Enterprises. He was finally getting used to being with his family again, and he was relieved to be rescued. He was surprised that he had even been rescued due to his lack of documentation. It had been nothing short of a miracle he and Virgil had been identified so soon.<p>

One of Scott's team-mates who he had served in the military with had rescued the two in the hospital and had recognized his younger brothers.

Gordon still felt guilty, though. He felt horrible because Alan was missing, and it had been Alan's idea that he escape. Authorities had raided the house that Gordon and Alan had been held hostage in. There had been no sign of Alan, and no sign that Gordon and Alan had ever been kidnapped there except for Gordon's blood on the carpet where he had been beaten and the pills Mullion had gotten for Alan in his false name.

Oh, and the dead body of the Hood that had been laid on the floor. Gordon had been shocked at that one, but relieved; he was so glad the Hood was dead. The only thing that scared Gordon is that he didn't know how they were going to find his younger brother now.

Virgil slid next to him, sitting down gently. "Hey," he said. Gordon turned towards his older brother. "How are you holding up?"

Gordon shrugged. "I'll be better when I can get in the pool," he said honestly. "Why do you ask?"

"I know how I'm feeling and I'm sure you're not feeling great, either."

"How are you, then?"

"I don't even know," Virgil admitted tiredly as he closed his eyes. "We're almost all back together, though."

"Yeah," Gordon said tiredly. "Almost."

* * *

><p>Virgil had tried to make a few attempts to talk to Gordon, but he kept getting one-word answers. He shuddered as a thought flashed through his head.<p>

_You're going to get the information for me, Virgil. You're going to drill your brothers and get the information that I need. I want that information, even if you have to kill someone for it. Are we clear?_

Virgil shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew that although they'd arrested the man who had been attacking him, they hadn't arrested the one who was responsible for his brainwashing. He pulled himself up. He didn't trust himself knowing why Gordon was bugged. It would be better if Scott would find out.

With this, Virgil went off and made his way towards Scott, trying to find his older brother.

Scott always had an uncanny ability to read his younger brothers, anyway.

* * *

><p>Scott had been relieved to find out that the Hood was dead. That meant that there was nobody for the doctor to report back to that he was speaking again. He was eternally grateful to go back to speaking clearly, he hated not being understood. He felt a new, profound respect for those who were deaf or mute. He'd been able to communicate some, but not being able to do it properly had driven him nuts.<p>

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, sliding down next to his younger brother. Virgil had tried to talk to him but had gotten nowhere.

Both brothers had only spent two days in the hospital. This was partly because they weren't "that bad" as the surgeon put it and partly because his father had used his name and his privileges to get his sons outpatient treatment closer to Tracy enterprises.

It had actually worked, much to Scott's relief. He was grateful to have almost all of his younger brothers together again. He just wished desperately for Alan.

"It's my fault Alan's still missing," Gordon said miserably as he glanced at Scott, trying not to look afraid.

"How is it your fault?" Scott said, trying to get a take on where his brother was going with this.

"He said he should be bait, and that he'd give me an opportunity to escape, and I went along with the plan. And now he's _still_ missing!"

Okay, that explained some, but not a lot, Scott thought with a tired sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. "Gordon, it's not your fault he's missing. Even if he said he'd be bait, that was still his decision."

"I guess," Gordon said, but Scott could tell he didn't believe him. "I just… there's just sometimes I don't feel like I belong in this family anymore, Scott. I don't know what to do."

Surprised by his brother's admission, Scott had to agree that he didn't know what he was going to do either… but that he was going to find out.

"Well, I think the first thing we need to do is find Alan," he said with another yawn, standing up.

"Wait!" Gordon said, suddenly facing his brother. "I think I know where he might be!"

* * *

><p>Well... Review?<p>

Don't kill me for the long update. I'd bore you with excuses, but they're all that; excuses.


	17. John Gets Some Fun

A/N: Look! It's an update! I finally have free time again. I have the month of December off from school so I'm going to write ahead to provide some steady and reliable updates for you. I hope, anyway!

* * *

><p>John sighed as he walked closer to the airport, waving goodbye to Scott, who was dropping him off. Scott and Gordon were going back to the first house Gordon thought he had been at; Gordon was hoping that Mullion had left behind a clue. John, who wanted space and time to think, was flying one of the Tracy jets home to collect some of their belongings. It was true that they could have brought what they needed, but John wanted… well, as he'd stated before, the time and space to think.<p>

He was walking to the back jet hanger when he saw a flash of movement. That was nothing new, he'd seen movement here a thousand times before, but what was new was it looked suspiciously like his younger brother, Alan, who he hadn't seen for weeks. Reaching down for his pistol that he wore at his ankle, John maneuvered his way back towards the other hanger, keeping a firm grip on it.

Sure enough, there was Alan next to Mullion.

John's heart went out to his brother. Alan looked like he'd lost ten pounds that he didn't have to loose. The kid probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, and that was being generous. The kid looked pale, like he hadn't slept for weeks. It made John's anger burn all over again.

He knew he could dial 9-1-1 and let them handle it, but he didn't dare make a move. He was too close to Mullion and any call he would have made would have been overheard, and any police help wouldn't get there in time. He slipped open the phone, dialed 911, and dropped it down before yelling, "Let Alan go, Mullion!"

Mullion spun around and grabbed the twenty-year-old blonde by his neck. "We were just waiting for you," Mullion responded. "You can come with us to our final destination."

"Let my brother go," John responded with what he hoped was more bravado than he felt. "If you don't, I'll shoot you."

"The shot wouldn't be justified," Mullion said, denying the fact that he held a knife right at Alan's neck.

"Even if the shot wasn't justified and I spent the rest of my life in prison, I wouldn't care. The earth would be rid of a scum like you and my family would have my baby brother back home safe again." John was glad to note that Alan blushed visibly at that comment. It made him have hope that Alan was still… well, Alan, despite all of the trauma he'd gone through.

"I'll make you a deal, John," Mullion said. From behind John, a man came and grabbed the gun, knocking it out of John's hands and knocking John to the ground. "You come with me, and I won't shoot you and your brother. Sound good?"

_No way, _John thought, but there was no way he would leave his baby brother alone with this psychopath. "I'll go," he responded with a tired sigh as he looked at Alan. Alan looked worried as John was forcefully handcuffed and the two brothers were shoved into the plane.

* * *

><p>"I'm worried about Alan," Gordon said as he sulkily leaned back in the car. They could have flown, but Scott hadn't really felt ready to fly, and John had wanted to go back to Tracy Island to collect some of their own things. Jeff was having police meet them at the house so that they could look around with a very visible escort."<p>

Virgil spoke up from the backseat. "We're all worried about Alan, dude."

"He's in the hands of a classified psychopath," Scott muttered darkly as he stared straight ahead, focused on the road. He was watching the rain dump buckets of water down. "Why do you bring the subject up, though, Gordon?"

"I just think that we should have found something by now. Anything. Anything that gives us a clue as to what that psychopath was planning."

Scott nodded at that. "He's always wanted to taunt us before; why hasn't he left behind something for us to find?"

"Gordon," Virgil said, leaning forward, "Did Mullion… say anything to you specifically? Like, about Alan?"

"Mullion wanted to make Alan his son – but I told you that already. The reason why I wanted to look around the old place is because I think he probably left a clue where he was going next. He'd have to have something that would tell him where to go."

"Wouldn't the police have already searched the place, though?" Scott remarked. He knew his brother had thought this out but wanted to know where he was at.

"Mullion is – I hate to say this – extremely creative. He's careful. It would take someone who knows the house well enough to know where he would hide it."

"And that would unfortunately be you."

"Unfortunately," Gordon responded with a shake of his head. "Virgil, you never did tell us what happened to you."

Virgil's face darkened. "I told local law enforcement."

"Whoa, hey! I wasn't trying to be mean or anything… it's just that any little clue could help us find where Alan is," Gordon hastily interjected.

Virgil remained silent for a second.

"I hate to admit it, but Gordon over here is right." Scott shot Gordon a smile to show him that he didn't mean any harm by the words. "I told you guys my whole messed up story. Gordon shared his. Maybe yours holds the key."

Virgil sighed. "He wanted to brainwash me so that I'd go back and get IR's secrets."

"He's just a _lovely_ guy isn't he? Someone who you would really want to meet in a dark ally," Gordon replied at that. He knew about the brainwashing part but wanted more details. Some part of the picture felt like it was missing.

"He would have gotten it too if the police officer hadn't walked in on the guy beating me." Scott could see his brother swallow from the reflection on the rear view mirror.

Gordon suddenly shifted towards Scott, a thought forming rapidly in his head, one that he hoped was wrong. "Hey Virgil, remember that one time back when both Scott and you were in high school? The time when Scott blew up the lab?"

"Why is that so important now?" Virgil asked. Scott turned back to look at Virgil, then hastily put his foot on the brake and pulled over.

"You don't remember that?" Scott asked with a worried look. Maybe more of Virgil's memory had gotten deleted than they had known. He did want to know why Gordon thought it was so important.

"I thought you were a model student in high school," Virgil said, a blank look on his face.

Gordon shared a glance with Scott. While Scott was a model citizen _now_, he was not a model citizen in high school… none of them really had been. Actually, Alan had probably been the best behaved of them all. Their father had spent half the time on the phone with his company and the other half on the phone with various principals.

"You think I'm a model citizen."

"You were said to be a model citizen in high school."

"Hold up." Scott turned off the car and leaned over the back seat. "I was _said_?"

"Virgil," Gordon said, feeling guilty for even suspecting this but needing to be sure, "Tell me about when I won my Olympic medal."

"I wasn't there that day, I don't remember it." Virgil flinched visibly and avoided looking at Gordon.

"I hate to do this, Virg, but in light of the recent events we've been through, I have to know for sure. Let me see the birth mark on your shoulder."

"Sure, sure. Not a problem."

That was when Gordon really stared at Scott. Virgil always flew off the handle with any statements about him lying. That was the one thing that set his even-tempered brother off more than anything.

Virgil lifted up his shirt. "See?" he asked.

There was no identifying mark.

Although the two Tracy brothers in the front seat didn't know it, that meant three of the Tracy brothers were within Mullion's grasp.

* * *

><p>Well... You didn't think I'd leave John out of the fun entirely, did you? Hope you "enjoyed", feel free to leave any feedback!<p> 


	18. I'll Protect My Brother

John groaned as he blinked awake, wondering where on earth everyone was. Then he remembered and everything hit him all at once: the abduction, Mullion… everything. His hands were free, so he used them to slowly push himself up and look around the room. He spotted Alan on the other bed, unmoving.

"Alan!" John cried, racing over towards his other brother. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt his brother's pulse, and he silently thanked God that his brother was still alive. Gordon had not been sure that his brother would survive Mullion's wrath.

Slowly, the twenty-something – or how old was he now? – blinked awake. "John?" he asked, looking sleepily at his brother. "John!" he cried out loud, enveloping his brother in a hug;

"I was so worried about you," John replied as he hugged his youngest brother back. Even though they were still in the hands of a monster, they were together, and right now that was all that mattered. They could focus on escaping later.

With that, Alan promptly burst into tears. John's face darkened with worry for Alan and hatred towards Mullion, who had caused his brother to behave like this. "I'm s-s-s-s sorry about G-G-Gordon," he said.

John pulled back slightly from his brother, forcing his youngest sibling to look him in the eye. "What are you sorry for?" he questioned.

"I…. I… I…" Alan looked down at the floor, tears falling from his eyes. "He's dead! And I killed him!"

Hatred filled John all over again and he drew Alan into a tighter hug. How dare Mullion lie about Gordon. Gordon was alive, it was the Hood who was dead; they had found his body. "Alan, look at me. Gordon is NOT dead. They rescued him, little brother, thanks to your help and the fact that you were really, really brave."

"But Mullion said –"

"Mullion knew that if you knew that Gordon had escaped, you would be hopeful and try a lot harder to escape, Alan. So he lied – he lied. Gordon is fine. And the Hood is the one who is dead."

Alan sniffled and used his sweater sleeve to dry away his tears. "Re- rea- really?" he finally asked.

"Yes, Alan. Absolutely. I promise you."

Alan breathed a sigh of relief. "I hate Mullion."

He didn't notice the look on his brothers' face, but he did notice the words his brother said. "Trust me, Alan, none of us are exactly fond of him right at the moment."

And that was the understatement of the year, he thought grimly, trying not to show Alan just how hurt their delicate little family really was right then.

## break ##

"Tell us where Alan is," Gordon demanded. Scott had pulled over at a vacant rest stop. It was dark; they were surrounded by wooded tree bushes. Gordon felt bad for doing this to someone who looked like Virgil, and yet, during the time they had driven, it was becoming increasingly clear he _wasn't _Virgil. "Tell us where Virgil is."

"Go to hell – you don't really care about them anyway."

Scott, who had always been one of the more patient siblings, decided that time was more of essence and that right now patience was not a virtue. "I swear to God, you little piece of slime, that if you don't tell me where my brothers are right now, I will not hesitate to torture you. I don't care how much jail time I get." With that, Scott slammed Virgil's look-alike into the tree non-too-gently.

"Scott, maybe you should ease up a bit," Gordon remarked. Scott shot him a look, and Gordon knew that Scott was on the same page. Good cop, bad cop. "Look, if you're really Virge, you'll understand how desperate we are for Alan. But I don't think you are. Just tell Scott the truth, though, and I promise you he will leave you alone."

"No, he won't!" Virgil retorted angrily. "He hates me! He hates my guts and I hate him. I hate this whole stupid family. You're not my family!"

"Where is Virgil?" Scott demanded. Gordon swallowed hard, hoping against hope that the Virgil-look alike would give them the answers they needed before Scott really did get violent.

The Virgil – lookalike's shoulders slumped. "He's back at the hospital," he admitted, a tear running down his face. "Will you tell - will you tell the police I never wanted to do this?"

"Like hell I will," Scott muttered, and Gordon looked at his brother, knowing he was a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. "Get in the car. You're taking us too there. And if I hear a word out of your mouth, I'm going to stop this car and you're not going to like what happens when I pull over."

## break ##

It was two hours before Scott, Gordon, and the look alike Virgil - they still hadn't learned his real name yet – were back at the hospital. The lookalike, probably desperate to get away from Scott, had pulled some strings at the front desk, and now they were in the same hospital room as the real Virgil, who was currently unconscious.

"It's just the drugs," the lookalike said, "I promise you, tell the doctor not to give it to him, and he'll be fine. I promise."

"Like we can believe anything you say," Scott responded. How long had his brother been drugged because he and Gordon had failed to notice an imposter? "What do you know about Alan?"

"I don't know anything, I promise." The police were on the way for the lookalike, and Scott knew he had very little time with him. He also highly suspected the guy of hiding something.

"Yeah right. That's why you gave us Virgil so fast. You didn't want us to think you had anything to do with Alan, right?" Scott demanded. At the pale look on the lookalike's face, Scott knew he was right. "Give me a clue. Now."

"If you tell t-them I c-co-perated, I will d-d-do you one be-be-better," he stuttered. Scott felt a flush of anger and had to restrain himself from torturing the man. "I n-n-eeed paper."

It was all Gordon could do not to shove the paper in his hands.

"The address," the lookalike said as he scribbled it down. Police were coming down the hall. "These are five addresses where Mullion possibly could be. Try the first address first. I'm sorry. I never wanted to do any of this."

"Then why do it?" Scott demanded.

"Because Mullion is my brother. You protect your family, I protect mine." With that, the man was handcuffed, and the local police started to read him his rights.

"It doesn't work quite that way when you _torture someone else's family!_" Scott yelled as the police officers lead him down the hallway. Gordon had to physically restrain his eldest brother and grab him so that he did not move.

"Let it go, Scott," Gordon said. "We have a stronger bond than they ever will, and we have a lead to where Alan is. We need to call Dad."

"You're right," Scott grumbled. "You call him, though. I'll stay here and watch Virgil sleep."


	19. Finally Home

Scott did some digging on the addresses. Within minutes, the finest police within the location of the buildings were sent out. There was one building that was two blocks away from the hospital. Gordon said that he wanted to go check it out personally. He and Scott had argued briefly - an argument which had ended when Gordon had promised to simply report if there were any signs of life in the building or not.

Gordon pulled the rent a car they were using to his house and made a stop. Grabbing a pair of binoculars, he pulled them out and slowly scanned the house. He had already seen the car in the driveway but would need more proof than that to show that someone was living here. Giving up on the binoculars, he put them down on the seat and pocketed his cell phone.

Just then, the car pulled out of the driveway. Gordon waited until it was gone before walking towards the house. He didn't think that his bothers would be in there, but it was possible. If the house was empty he would be dialing 9-1-1 as fast as he could. He quickly approached the house. Not even bothering to knock, he tried the front door.

It was unlocked.

Gordon rolled his eyes and pushed his way through before quickly shutting it. Where should he even start? Hesitating only briefly, he drew his gun from his pocket and slowly made his way up the stairs. They were in his way anyway.

Gordon cleared the master bedroom with no result. The bathroom was then cleared. After that, yet another room. Gordon was about to give up hope and considered calling the police in, but he knew he still had more rooms to clear. He silently made his way up the room before he checked his watch. He'd gotten the license plate on the vehicle and would be calling it in soon.

Then he heard something. It sounded like... Gordon didn't even know. He moved quickly towards the other bedroom and pressed himself up against the door.

"It's okay, Alan," the redhead heard John's voice say. "Gordon's not dead, I promise. The man doesn't know what he's talking about. I saw Gordon myself. Just take a deep breath, kiddo. We'll get out of here, okay?"

With that, confident that Mullion was the one who had driven away, Gordon opened the door and showed his weapon. "Alan! John!" he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was so worried about you!"

"Gordon, what the hell are you doing here?" John said, embracing his younger brother in a hug. "No that I'm not grateful and everything - because I am - just a little shocked."

"G-G-Gordon?"

Gordon knew they had to get out of there, but they also had to comfort his brother. He tossed his cell phone to John, and said, "Dial 911," he commanded, giving his brother the information from the car that he had seen. "Alan, it's okay. I'm not dead. Nobody's mad at you. Dad's going to be so, so glad you were found. I promise."

Alan could only swallow. After all of this terror, they were finally, finally going home.

## break ##

The police arrived at the house within five minutes of Gordon's call. Both John and Alan were escorted off to the hospital, where Jeff hugged his youngest tightly. Gordon had to remain at the crime scene long enough to give his statement to the police, but he reassured Alan and John that he would be right on his way.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," Jeff pleaded, desperate to let his youngest son never leave his sight.

"Can't - breathe!" Alan said, although he omitted a smile. The doctor personally moved the Tracy family to the biggest room in the hospital to accommodate for their size. Alan looked relieved to see everyone again, Scott noticed.

Scott glanced at the still sleeping Virgil. This, he still felt guilty about. He should have noticed that something was off with his brother. No, scratch that. He should have realized that his brother wasn't really his brother at all. What kind of brother was he?

"Scott, can I talk to you for a moment?" Jeff asked his oldest son. He saw the haunted look in his son's eyes, and thought he knew what was to blame.

Scott allowed himself to be torn away by his father. "Dad," Scott said, "I am so, so sorry. If I had only been paying attention, this ever would've happened."

"Scott," Jeff instructed, "look at me."

Almost afraid of what he would see, Scott struggled to lift up his head. "Yes, sir?" He asked.

"This is exactly the reason why I chose you to be field commander," Jeff said. "Look at your family. We are all home. Even Virgil. If you had not questioned the identity of the false man, we would have had a spy in our midst and never would have known it. None of us saw through the false identity. Scott, because you were brave enough to ask questions that needed to be asked, your brothers are home."

"Then why do I feel like I failed?" Scott asked quietly. Jeff had to strain to hear his son's voice.

"Scott, you were willing to undergo abuse by a supposed hospital employee when you were safe to keep your brothers safe. You and your brothers have been through a difficult time. You'll need time to heal. This is only natural. Scott, you didn't fail. You won. You brought your brothers home." Jeff laid hand on his son's shoulder.

"I consider this mission a success."

"Good," Gordon said, stepping into the hallway from where he had been in the corner. "Then that means you won't mind buying dinner, right, Dad?"

Scott couldn't help but laugh at his brother's face. "Well," Jeff remarked, "I think Virgil is getting his free thanks to the hospital."

"Yeah, that only covers one of us. What about the rest of us? Hey, John," Gordon said, "don't you think that Dad should buy us dinner?"

John smirked. "Yeah dad," he remarked, "we have worked a lot of overtime. Don't you think it's only fair?"

"I guess I could be persuaded," Jeff said. "Although we will have to order in, I am not letting you boys out of my sight."

At that, Virgil started stir. Scott's heart lept; all his brothers were together, they would all be okay. If they could still joke about dinner and pizza, they would be okay.

The road to recovery would be long and tedious – but they'd get there.

"Dad?" Virgil asked sleepily, eying Gordon as Gordon went to go wave down the nurse. "It's Thursday – Gordon's turn to take out the trash."

The family erupted into laughter, and Scott knew that everyone was home.

## break ##

16 chapters later – and it's finally finished! I hope you've all enjoyed the ride! Hopefully, you've enjoyed it more than our boys have... Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to leave their wonderful comments, especially:

Criminally Charmed

Thunderbird Mom

thunderbirdfan5

BELLA X STARFIRE7745231, bubzchoc, JoTracy123, and Rosa241


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